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CROSS COUNTRY 
WITH HORSE AND HOUND 




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CROSS COUNTRY 
WITH HORSE AND HOUND 



BY 



FRANK SHERMAN PEER 

Author of *' Soiling, Ensilage, and Stable Construction " 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

J. CRAWFORD WOOD 







NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1902 






THE LlBRAffY OF 

CONGRESS, 
TVwn Copies Rcuxived 

OCT. n t90? 

(in^mtwrr ehtbv 
CtAStS CVXXo Mo. 

corv d. 



Copyright, 1902, by 
Charles Scribner's Sons 



Published October, igo2 



The DeVinne Press 



TO 

THOMAS HITCHCOCK, JR., ESQ. 
EX-MASTER OF THE MEADOWBROOK HOUNDS 
MASTER OF THE AIKEN (N, C.) HOUNDS 
A VERY CLEVER HUNTSMAN 
A FINISHED RIDER 
A RARE HORSEMAN 
A GENUINE SPORTSMAN 
THIS WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR 



PREFACE 

" Perhaps, after all, it 's a gain in the end 
To be tied to the subject you love." 

RHYMES IN RED 

STRANGE as it may seem, there never has been a book 
pubHshed in America on the subject of cross-country 
riding to hounds. Let this be the author's apology — if 
any is required — for presenting this work. 

Having moved into a hunting country without previous 
knowledge of the sport, the author undertook to follow 
the hounds after witnessing a run from a friend's car- 
riage, and, needless to say, made about as many mistakes as 
it was possible for a "green un" to accomplish. It was 
greatly to his mortification and chagrin to discover how 
much of a sinner he had been against the unwritten laws 
of the hunting-field — so much so that years later he deter- 
mined, if an opportunity should present itself, to place in the 
hands of similar uninitiated ones something in the nature 
of a guide. Curiously enough, the rules are misunderstood 
even by a large number of those who follow the hounds. 
Especially is this true of the men who simply '' hunt to 
ride." Although a gallop across country is a most invig- 
orating pastime, the most interesting and lasting enjoy- 
ment, the real sport, comes from a more thorough knowledge 



viii Preface 

of the hunt, of the workings of the hounds, the plots laid 
by the artful Reynard to fool them, and the counter-plots of 
the clever huntsman. The men who follow hunting year 
in and year out, through fair weather and foul, through 
youth, manhood, and age, are invariably the men who 
possess this knowledge, and who, instead of simply hunting 
to ride, are classed with the men who ride to hunt. This 
work is therefore intended to give the novice an insight 
into the game from the point of view both of hunting and 
of riding, so that he may obtain from the sport a full 
measure of the delights it has to offer. 

The author makes no attempt to set up a code for 
officers of the hunt. He states the conditions and moves 
of the game from a member's and not from an official's 
standpoint. He has never occupied any position in the 
hunt except that of a modest riding member who dearly 
loved the sport, especially the hunting part of it. His 
ambition has been to keep in sight of the hounds, and he 
is quite contented to let the racing men and jealous riders 
share all the honours they can extract from the satisfaction 
of being called "first flight men." A more important 
claim is that he has had considerable experience in breed- 
ing, rearing, and schooling hunters that have been for the 
most part a credit to the system adopted in their training, 
and has been fortunate in bringing to this work quite ex- 
tensive observations of many different packs of hounds in 
European countries, as well as in the United States and Can- 
ada. His chief aim is to encourage this most noble sport 
for sport's sake, to contrast the genuine sportsman with the 
artificial, and to pay to that noblest of animals, the horse. 



Prefa 



ce IX 



and especially the "hunter," a debt of gratitude for many 
a glorious hour in his company. 

The author is indebted to the artist Mr. J. Crawford 
Wood for the very lifelike illustrations accompanying 
these pages. Mr. Wood is one of the keenest, hunting 
men in the famous grass countries of England. He hunts 
five days a week throughout the season, with such noted 
packs as the Pytchley, Grafton, and North Warwickshire 
hounds. Thanks are due also to Mr. Phillpotts Williams, 
master and huntsman of the Melton harriers, near Salis- 
bury, England, for kind permission to select from his 
"Rhymes in Red" and his "Poems in Pink" the verses 
which precede the several chapters of this work. They are 
so full of the spirit and the true gospel of hunting that 
they must be heartily welcomed. No author up to the 
present day has been more generally quoted on all questions 
concerning the science and art of fox-hunting. No less 
is the indebtedness to the immortal Somerville, of whose 
lines the author has made liberal use, although they were 
written in 1735 and have long been out of print. The 
odour of the woods and the spirit of the chase live in them 
still, with the vigour of youth, the colour of autumn, and 
the freshness of spring. 

In a work of this nature it has been found impossible to 
avoid considerable repetition of thought. Besides, the book 
has been a long time in pickle. Chapters or portions of 
chapters have been added at long intervals, and the whole 
has been compiled during " overtime " from other business 
— on steam-cars, or at uncomfortable hotels, or on steam- 
ships pitched about by winter seas. If it is well received 



X Preface 

it will be in spite of its style. The reins, the gun, and 
the tiller are probably better suited to the writer's hands 
than the pen. His chief hope is that the reader may 
have some of the pleasure in reading the book that the 
author had in writing it. He is well aware that many of 
his views are not altogether orthodox, but he has at- 
tempted to be honest with himself and present his own 
ideas and views regardless of some well-grounded no- 
tions current among hunting men. We are all apt to get 
into a rut in our ways of thinking. It may be prefer- 
able to have a rut of our own rather than follow a blind 
ditch simply because the crowd seems to be going that 
way. The writer is also aware that he now rejects many 
theories that a few years ago were considered true gospel, 
which leads him to suspect that a few years hence he may 
repudiate some things that he now asserts with much assur- 
ance. He will consider his reward very ample if in the 
hour of ultimate success the novice reader has a kindly 
thought for " Cross Country with Horse and Hound." 

The Elms 

Cornell Heights 

Ithaca, N. Y. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



I True Sport and Sportsmanship i 

The word sportsman defined — English and American sports- 
men compared — American school and college sports 

II Hunting Terms ii 

A learner's programme — Terms ancient and modern 

III The Hunter: His Conformation 19 

Head — Neck — Shoulders — Back — Loin quarters — Body — 
Legs — Disposition 

IV Breeding Hunters 39 

The best breed — General principles in breeding — Selection 
of sire and dam — Summary of principles — Treatment of mare 
and foal 

V Schooling Hunters 53 

The best age to begin — Mouthing and learning to drive — 
Schooling for saddle work — Learning to jump, right way — 
Learning to jump, wrong way 

VI Buying a Hunter 69 

The horse-dealer and the jockey — Two ways of buying a horse 
— How some buyers go about it — The marriage ceremony 

VII Seat 85 

Riding by grip and balance — Bad and good form — How to 
sit a horse properly — Riding over jumps by balance 

VIII Hands 99 

Pullers : how they are made — Proper position of hands — How 
to hold the reins — Hands when jumping 
xi 



xii Contents 

PAGE 

IX Jumping Fences, Ditches, and Water . . . .115 

The rider — His management of his horse — Speed at timber 
and water 

X Spurs 121 

Their use and abuse — Relics of barbarism 

XI Dress ..•*•... .129 

The etiquette of the hunting-field — The over-dressed — The 
-, under-dressed — The swell 

XII Falls i35 

The art of falling — Learning to fall — Barometer of fear — 
Falls not the horse's fault 

XIII Courage vs. Funk 145 

True and false nerve — Cataleptic riders — Preparation — A case 
of funk that reached collapse 

XIV The Hound 155 

Standard of excellence — Drafting for faults — American and 
English hounds compared 

XV Hound Breeding 165 

Origin of the breed — Difficulties in the way — The skill of 
English breeders — Mating and birth 

XVI The Hound Puppy at Walk 177 

An important event — Mischievous propensities — Kennel dis- 
cipline — Cub-hunting 

XVII The Fox .189 

The fox compared with other game — Hunting the wild red 
deer — A pathetic end — Renard's crafty nature 

XVIII The Fox and his Ways 197 

Breeding season — First lessons in craft cunning — What the 
earth-stopper says — What the farmer and his wife say 

xix Scent 209 

Some theories compared — Fondness of hounds for the trail — 
Hound music and a novice 



Contents xiii 

PAGE 

XX Farmers and City Men 219 

Obligations of hunting men to farmers — Farmers' compensation 
and damages — City men in the country — Snobs 

XXI The Lady Rider ^^9 

Her position in the field — Her horsemanship — Her courage 
and resolution — A famous rider 

XXII Mind-power Horsemanship 239 

"An indefinable something" — Personal magnetism — Consent 
to be governed — Cultivation of mind-power control 

XXIII Driving to Hounds 251 

An interesting pastime — The Doctor and the little mare — A 
remarkable spill 

XXIV Officers and Hunt Assistants 261 

The M.F.H. — The huntsman — The whippers-in — The ken- 
nel huntsman — The earth-stopper 

XXV Horse Companionship . ^75 

Love of animals — Advice to beginners — A long list of "don'ts' 



,'*„" 



XXVI The Consultation of War 293 

Arranging for a day's hunting — An elaborate preparation — 
Old Simpson at work 

XXVII The Meet 301 

The M.F.H. as host — In discharge of his social duties — In- 
troducing a few friends 

xxviii Riding to Covert 3^^ 

Mounting for the start — A rider in a fight with his horse — 
Mrs. So-and-So and our huntsman — Position 

XXIX The Game Itself 3'^S 

Breaking covert— Full cry— The check — The riders — The 
death 

XXX The Hunt Dinner 339 

The huntsman's toast — " To fox-hunting in general " — The 
Doctor tells a story 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing page 

English foxhound " Grafton Pageant " . . . . Frontispiece 
High-class grade thoroughbred Blue Rock — hunter type ) 

Heavy-weight hunter — ideal Irish type ) 

The harness type \ ^g 

The hack type ) 

Thoroughbred stallion Barrett, by Bonnie Scotland ... 30 
Rider's centre of gravity, withers, shoulder-blade, true arm, 

elbow-joint, and girths 3^ 

" A rap on the shins that knocks the feeling out of his legs " 66 

Rider in correct position — front and back 92. 

The right and the wrong way of jumping timber .... 94 

The right and the wrong way of landing over timber . . 98 

Hands — correct and incorrect positions 104 

Hands in riding ^H 

Fast at timber, too extended ) „ 

> 118 

Slow at timber, hocks well under ) 

" The sharp rowels of a spur ploughing across the loins of a 

horse " ^^" 

" There is a knack about falling, as there is about swimming " 138 
"'Catch my horse! Here, somebody! I say, there, catch 

my horse !' " ^5^ 



XV 



xvi List of Illustrations 

Bloodhound and greyhound, ancestors of the EngHsh 

foxhound i68 

The Master's " priceless beauties " 172 

" Delivers them into the aprons of kindly disposed farmers' 

wives " 174 

" Again you may find her sleeping before the boiler-room 

fire" 182 

" But the whipper-in takes after him. ' Ware rabbit ! Ware 

rabbit!'" 186 



ccc 



There he goes, damn him ! ' cries the deacon of the First 

Baptist Church " 194' 

"'The way in which they will afterward fool some silly old 

goose ' " 206 

"Hark to Bluebells, hark to Bluebells," cries the huntsman 216 

Canadian seven-eighths thoroughbred lady's hunter . . .232 

" We saw three or four riders go to grass " 256 

" It is an old move and has worked beautifully on many oc- 
casions " 264 

" Their heads go up, their music ceases. Again they are at 

a check " 268 

" She is turned out on the lawn in front of the house, where 

the grasses are tenderest and sweetest " 278 

"'Not a man on the place knows enough to do my work ' " . 298 

The colt out of old Jane by Devil-to-Pay 304 

"There were eight of us at it, and seven got in" . . . .318 

From scent to view — "Hie, hie, hie, hie!" 328 

"'Break him, my beauties, break him !' " ^^^ 



TRUE SPORT AND SPORTSMANSHIP 



'♦The note of a hound, ever sweet to the ear. 
Will leave you no feeling of pain; 

It drives away sorrow and drives away fear. 

Just hark at them now as they fly to the cheer 
With a crash on the velvety plain." 

POEMS IN PINK 




TRUE SPORT AND SPORTSMANSHIP 

THE WORD SPORTSMAN DEFINED ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SPORTS- 
MEN COMPARED AMERICAN SCHOOL AND COLLEGE SPORTS 

lEFORE we consider hunting as a sport, let us 
come to an understanding as to the meaning 
of the words sportsman, sporting man, and 
" sport." In England a sporting man is one 
who bets on horse-races, follows the " circuit," keeps game- 
birds or bulldogs for fighting, or runs a gambling-saloon, 
and is reckoned in good society as altogether beyond the 
pale of respectability. On the other hand, to speak of a 
man as a "sportsman" is to speak of one who is fond of 
fishing, yachting, shooting, or hunting — hunting in Eng- 
land always meaning riding to hounds, while going for game 
with a gun is spoken of as shooting. To say of a man in 
England that he is a good or genuine sportsman means that 
in all such games of sport he plays fair and is gentlemanly, 
honourable, and open-handed. He asks no favours and grants 
none, winning or losing on his personal merits. In short, 
a genuine sportsman and a genuine gentleman are synony- 
mous terms. We are bound to use the words sport and 
sportsman very often in the following pages, and in every 

3 



4 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

case according to the English usage. In America the term 
sporting man has much the same significance as it has in 
England, with an additional suggestion of the cheap "sport " 
in it, while sportsman is loosely used to mean any one fond 
of out-of-door sport. 

Whatever we say of England as a nation, we must admit 
that the inhabitants of that country know how to play, 
and it is for this reason, also, that they know how to live. 
They have discovered the elixir of youth as has no other 
nation. We must also admit that they know how to play 
fair, and that they are the best and most genuine sportsmen 
anywhere to be found. It is not too much to say that the 
universal love of field-sports in England is one of the prin- 
cipal causes of her greatness as a nation. Fair play is a 
cardinal virtue among her people. The lessons the youths 
of England absorb from cricket, football, rowing, and other 
outdoor sports of skill and chance have done as much to 
establish and maintain the supremacy of that little country 
among the nations of the world as have all her schools, 
colleges, and churches combined. I recognise that this is 
a sweeping assertion, and perhaps a difficult one to prove ; 
but I make it with the greatest confidence, after considera- 
ble study and observation of the English people. In the 
first place, their universal love of field-sports has done more 
than all else to grow healthy men and women. The 
ambition of an English father is to grow his sons and 
daughters as he would grow his farm stock — fine, healthy, 
upstanding animals. " Go out and play," he says. " I 
want you to grow up to be big stout men and women. 
Money is no good to a man without a stomach." 



True Sport and Sportsmanship 5 

Every English boy while at school is obliged to go out 
and play. It is a part of his education. He carries the 
love of outdoor sports taught him at the primary schools 
on to college, and from there into the hunting-field. There 
are three thousand students at the colleges in Oxford, and 
I am informed on most reliable authority that over 
two thousand of that number are daily engaged in some 
form of field-sport. I have myself seen thirty crews of 
eight men each rowing in a single race at Oxford. 
These were the freshmen only, the pick of at least twice 
that number of freshmen who were in daily practice. In 
an English college at least ninety per cent, of the men go in 
for field-sports. The percentage in an American college 
must be considerably less. In England these field-sports 
give place to cross-country riding to hounds when the boy 
becomes a man. The transition is easy, for many of the 
colleges and some of the large grammar-schools have packs 
of foot beagles that once or twice a week hunt the hare. It 
is a fine sight to see a hundred sturdy lads in the chase of 
" puss " to a pack of twenty or thirty couples of beagles. 
There is not a university in England, I believe, but has its 
hunt club, and a goodly number of students keep hunters or 
polo ponies that do double duty one or two days a week, 
at polo, fox, or drag. Even if the English boy has missed 
this training while at school or college, his healthy, sport- 
hardened nerves never undergo a shock when he essays to 
ride to hounds. 

There are in England and Scotland, in a territory little 
larger than the State of New York, one hundred and thirty- 
eight packs of hounds. Hunting is the national sport. It 



6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

is a man's game. Thousands of men over fifty years of age 
are hunting to-day in England; hundreds over sixty years 
of age, men and women, too, with grey hair, are riding to 
hounds over some of the roughest country ; and scores of 
them seventy or even eighty years old are at their favourite 
pastime, the chase of the wild fox or deer. In America, 
men are too apt to be old at fifty, too likely not to have 
any time for play, or no time for anything but money-mak- 
ing. It is greatly to be hoped that hunting may become 
more general, for there are yet too few games and dis- 
tractions out of doors for men. Athletics is the reigning 
fad in America. Let one hope American children will 
develope a permanent love of all manly sport for sport's sake, 
that they may transmit to their descendants not only clever- 
ness and ability, but robust and healthy bodies. 

Next to health, the most desirable quality to cultivate in 
a boy is courage and strength of nerve, and for this there is 
no schooling he can possibly have like rough-and-tumble 
field-sports. Health, courage, nerve, energy, come not 
from learning how to parse or figure, but from learning 
how to play ; and next to health, strength, courage, energy, 
nerve, the most desirable quality to be developed in a child 
is fair dealing. Where or in what form is it possible to 
imagine a system of schooling that will develope this most 
estimable trait of character like field-sports ? Do I place 
too high an estimate on the value of play ? I hardly think 
so. What has all this to do with hunting ? It is the very 
foundation of it. The field-sports of the boys at school 
and college are but the primary tutoring to cross-country 
riding for the man. 



True Sport and Sportsmanship 7 

The attainment of health is the most priceless of all 
things earthly to be attained. Courage and nerve are the 
outgrowth of health, of the power to govern and to be 
governed, and of the practical, every-day training in that 
most Christian-like virtue of the Golden Rule. There is 
still another characteristic of men who never forget how to 
play, and that is longevity. Who can estimate the value a 
man would place, in certain circumstances, upon an exten- 
sion of time ? Ask the millionaire who finds his race run, 
his bolt shot, at fifty. All the time that is spent in outdoor 
sports is, I believe, in the numbering of our days, so much 
clear gain. And when at last age may rob the true sports- 
man of active participation in the chase, the sight of a 
horse under saddle, a hound puppy at walk, will send a glow 
through his veins as the touch of a blacksmith's bellows 
quickens a smouldering fire. He is helped on by a cheer 
that gladdens his declining days as nothing else can. To 
what do old men most lovingly look back as they near the 
" mellow " ? Not to the greatest sermon, the ablest plea, the 
most skilful operation, the stroke in business that made a 
million in a single day : all these things have long since ceased 
to charm. It is the games and sports of youth and man- 
hood that live to the end. These glow with fervent heat. 
The blood once thoroughly inculcated by true sport and 
sportsmanship will gambol healthfully to the end. No 
man, be he king or peasant, can carry to his grave more 
agreeable recollections than those of the chase, the gun, or 
the yacht. These live within him, a well-spring of joy to 
cheer when all that is earthly fails. Speak to any man of 
his favourite game of sport or skill, and how pleased he is 



8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

to recall it! How youth comes back in his gestures, his 
voice, his face, his whole frame, crippled and infirm it 
may be, but made to play again as he tells the oft-repeated 
story to his grandchildren of how he finished and won the 
great hunter point-to-point steeplechase when he was a 
boy, seventy years ago, by a neck ! He will tell you with 
minutest detail of the great fishing excursions to Canada, 
the shooting trip to the Adirondacks, his horses, his dogs, 
his yacht, the run of the hounds. These experiences he 
retains with ever-increasing clearness until the golden bowl 
is finally broken. You may go still further back to college 
days, and note what it is that delights him most — to recall 
the fact that he won a scholarship or graduated with hon- 
ours, or the race of his college crew in which he took part. 
If he is a very old man you may go still further back to 
the games of his school-days. Ask him how the boys in 
his day played " two all cat," " pom-pom-pull-away," 
**yard the sheep," ** I spy," or "fox and geese," and you 
will have a most vivid picture of every move in the game. 
Speak of music. Is he fond of the opera ? Oh, yes ! but 
the sweetest music, the melody that still fills his heart, is 
the music of the hound in full cry, the lament of the 
blocks when the mainsail is set, the report of the gun, or 
the clatter of horses' feet. 

Men do not yet know enough how to play in America, 
and I make this plea to every father and mother — to give 
their attention to growing well-developed animals. Let 
them turn squarely about, and teach how to play, and how 
to play fair. Curtail the child in nothing that will tend 
to develope him physically. Let book-learning take care 



True Sport and Sportsmanship 9 

of itself. One cannot develope or cultivate in one's children 
a safer passion than that for clean outdoor sports. They 
carry with them no stain that will not easily come off. 
Though health and strength are much more to be desired 
than riches, yet one delves and saves and denies himself 
everything to leave to his children money, and lets the 
more important question of robust constitutions be taken 
up by chance and the family physician. May every teacher 
and college professor become builders of bodies as well as 
minds, educators of the whole instead of a part. May 
every school-boy and school-girl, before it is too late, learn 
how to play, how to take defeat in a true sportsmanlike 
way, to love all manly and womanly games of sport for 
sport's sake, and live on to enjoy the fulness of mature 
years with the happy reflection of a well-spent life in the 
pursuit of health-giving pleasure and happiness. 



II 

HUNTING TERMS 



" Taught to speak 
The proper dialect, with horn and voice 
To cheer the busy hound." 

SOMERVILLE 




II 

HUNTING TERMS 

A learner's programme TERMS ANCIENT AND MODERN 

S there are many terms used in hunting that 
are as Greek to the uninitiated, it may not 
be out of place to devote a few pages to the 
explanation of them before we proceed 
further. We shall then feel that our decks have been 
cleared for action, that our house is in order ; or, as my 
hunting friends might prefer to say, " We are all ready 
with an early start to follow the line " ; we propose to hunt 
in the following pages. 

First, however, let us find a comfortable seat, and spend 
the evening talking horse and hound and hunting in gen- 
eral. To-morrow morning we will visit the kennels, and 
then call on "old Simpson," the earth-stopper, and get 
him to tell us what he knows about foxes. After that we 
will take a horseback ride, and jump a few fences for prac- 
tice. In the afternoon we can drive out to see our first 
fox chase from a carriage. In the evening we will pay 
our respects to the master and huntsman, and the next 
morning go early to the ** meet," and then " hack to 
covert." We shall have a sure " find," and no doubt we 

13 



14 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

shall have a " kill," in which case I hope the reader will 
be in at the " death," and be rewarded with the " brush," 
the " mask," or at least a " pad," and be " blooded to 
hounds " " in due and ancient form." I warn him against 
cutting corners or being seen at too much road or lane 
riding. This is a demoralising practice, bad for both horse 
and rider. Take my advice and stay with the hounds. 
There was never a run but taught the man of observation 
something to his advantage. Even a " blank day to 
hounds " is better than no day at all. Now, then, let us on 
with it. 

Most of these terms are as given by Thomas Smith, Esq., 
of England in his charming book " Extracts from the 
Diary of a Huntsman." The volume was published in 
1838, and has long since been out of print. The greater 
part of his expressions are still in general use all over Eng- 
land and America, with slight modifications and a few cor- 
ruptions. It is with great pleasure that the author adds to 
the present work a valuable chapter for those who wish 
to use and preserve the time-honoured vocabulary of the 
chase. 

Cover hoick — throwing hounds into cover. 
Eloo-in — into covert. 
Yoi-over — over fence. 
*Edawick, Edawick, Edawick — to make hounds draw in 
cover. 
Yoi wind him — encourage hounds to draw. 

* Language or sayings marked * have been supplied by the author as additional to 
the list given by Mr. Smith. 



Hunting Terms 15 

Yoi rouse him, my boy, or. Rouse him, my beauties — en- 
courage hounds to draw. 

Hackles — when the hair on a hound's back stands up- 
right, his hackles are up. 

Hoick Rector — cheer to Rector or whichever hound first 
challenges. (For modern " Hark to Rector.") 

Hoick together — when hounds are scattered, to get 
them together. 

Tally-O, or, Tally-O away — when a fox is viewed away. 

Tally-O back — when fox has returned to covert. 

Yo-hote, Yo-hote — when " check" to make hounds hunt. 

Eloo at him, or, Tally-O at him — when hounds near the 
fox. 

Ware — huntsman's or whipper-in's cry to a hound that 
is running or doing wrong. "Ware rabbit," "Ware 
riot," etc. 
*Hi ! Hi ! Hi ! — cheer to hounds when overtaking their 

fox. (Fox in view of riders.) 
*Babbler — a noisy hound, giving tongue too freely. 
*Blank — empty. Covert is drawn blank ; i.e., nothing 
found. 

Billet — excrement of the fox. 

Burst — of speed. (First dash of speed.) 

Burst him — when fox is killed. (Cheer to hounds.) 
*Break him — when fox is thrown to hounds. 

Burning scent — good. 

Breast-high — when scent is so good hounds can carry 
their heads up. 

Carry a good head — good scent and wide enough for the 
whole pack. 



1 6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

*Cast — the spreading of hounds when in search of the 

line. 
^Challenge — first hound to give tongue. 
Counter — when hounds are running opposite to the way 

the fox is travelHng. 
Check — hounds stopped. 

Chopped a fox — said when fox is killed in covert. 
*Cropper — fall from a horse. 
Crash, a good crash — when hounds are running in covert 

and every one is throwing tongue. 
Cub — young fox. 

Cold hunting — when hounds can hardly "feel scent." 
Cover or covert — a wood or any place likely to conceal 
a fox. 
*Crop — hunting-whip. 
Down wind — with the wind. 
Up wind — against the wind. 
*Double — said when a fox runs short back on the line. 
Drawing — when hounds are working over a covert. 
Drag — scent left by the footsteps of a fox on his way to 

kennel that morning. 
Dwelling — feeling a stale scent. 
Drafted — called out. 
Earths are drawn — when vixen fox has drawn fresh 

earth; — proof she intends to lay her cub there. 
Flighty — used of a hound that is not steady. 
Feeling a scent — said when hounds can hardly distinguish 
a scent. 
*Feather — when hound is waving his "stern" (tail) he 
is said to be " feathering." 



Hunting Terms 17 

Foil — used when a fox runs the ground over which he 

has been hunted before. 
Full cry — when whole pack "throw tongue." 
Gone to ground — said of a fox when he goes to earth. 
Handles a pack — used of a huntsman's management of 

his pack. 
Heel — when hounds run a trail backward. (Running heel.) 
Hitting it off — finding the line after a check. 
Hold hard — warning to a rider to stop or go slower. 
Holding scent — when hounds can follow, but not fast. 
*Jumping-powder — stimulant taken from a flask. 
*Kennel — where a fox sleeps above-ground ; his bed ; 

where he was kenneled. 
Lifting — when hounds are unable to find and the hunts- 
man takes them on to where he thinks the line is. 
*Line hunter — a very methodical and painstaking hound. 

Main earths — large breeding burrows or earths. 
*Mask — head of a fox. 
Mobbing a fox — taking him at a disadvantage. 
Mute — hounds run mute when at great speed. (Not 

giving tongue.) 
Opens to the scent, or, Owning a scent — said of hound 

when he " throws tongue." 
Pad — foot of fox. 
Riot — when hounds run hare or rabbit. (Compare 

"Ware riot.") 
*Skirter — hound that runs wide of the pack. 

Sinking — said when fox shows signs of being overtaken. 
*Stern — tail of a hound. 
Stained — Ground passed over by sheep, etc. 



1 8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Streaming — hounds running like flock of pigeons. 

Speaks — when hound owns scent, speaks to it, or gives 
tongue. 
*Thong — lash of a hunting-crop. 

Thrown up — check. 

Ticklish scent — one that varies or is uncertain. 
*Vixen — female fox. 



Ill 

THE HUNTER: HIS CONFORMATION 



Be to his faults a little blind. 
Be to his virtues ever kind." 

JOROCKS 




Ill 

THE HUNTER: HIS CONFORMATION 

HEAD NECK SHOULDERS BACK LOIN QUARTERS BODY 

LEGS DISPOSITION 

HUNTING man is apt to have rather fixed 
notions as to how a hunter should be built. 
His ideal is generally the likeness of some 
good, faithful beast that has carried him with 
the greatest ease and safety; which is only another way 
of saying that a good hunter, whatever he is like, however 
he is formed, however he is bred, whatever his colour, if he 
suits and fits us, is not a bad horse. 

The one horse among the multitude that have passed 
through my hands, by which all horses are compared and 
come short, was one Brunett, a three-quarter-bred Cana- 
dian thoroughbred. In conformation she was a collec- 
tion of minor faults. She was a little over on her knees, 
slightly sickle-hocked, rather long in the back, had ragged 
hips, a large plain head, and the longest ears I have ever 
seen on anything but a mule; nevertheless she was such an 
animal as one meets with but once in a lifetime. She had 
courage, spirit, light-heartedness, a happy disposition, rare 
intelligence, and the most charming manner in harness. 



2 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

She was also the most delightful hack that ever carried a 
saddle. There were bolder-going cross-country horses and 
faster, but none ever enjoyed the game better; and although 
she was only fifteen and one half hands, and apparently not 
up to my weight, I never fathomed her staying qualities. 
I did not know as much about horses then as I do now, or 
I never should have parted with her. Take my advice : if 
you ever come across a horse that thoroughly suits you, let 
neither love nor money take him from you. The chances 
are one in a thousand you will ever find another. 

But what suits one person will not always suit another. 
The man to whom I sold Brunett sold her back to me two 
years later without expressing very deep regret. She went 
to the Azore Islands for a gentleman's hack, and I have 
been looking for another Brunett ever since. 

The pick of the stable, good, honest, and sound. 
How eager she was at the note of a hound ! 

Again, the next best horse I ever owned was, without 
doubt, the homeliest mare that ever graced the Genesee 
Valley. She came so near to Brunett in disposition and 
characteristics that I would have her. She is such a 
homely horse that no one has ever asked the price of her. 
She is now twenty-two or twenty-three years old, and has 
for the last fifteen years been one of the family. Yet, old 
as she is, none can outshine her, either on a short run or 
in the lead tandem, where, to this day, she is very proud 
of herself. A Kentucky negro, seeing her driven into 
town one day, described her: "She ain't nothin' to look 




High-class grade thoroughbred Blue Rock — hunter type. 




Heavy-weight hunter — ideal Irish type. 



The Hunter: His Conformation 23 

at when she 's a-standin', but she 's a sho-nufF cake-walk 
mare when she am a-goin' ! " Dear old mare ! Every one 
laughs at her, but we love her just the same. 

Pardon my digression ! The above had to come out 
somewhere in this book, and it may just as well be first as 
last. Besides, it illustrates my point : " Handsome is that 
handsome does." I do not mean to say, of course, that 
only homely and unshapely horses make the best hunters. 
Neither of the horses I have just mentioned was an ideal 
except in manners and way of going, which in a hunter or 
saddle-horse more than in any other are nearly the sum 
total of excellence. I mean to say, never discard a horse 
that displeases you only by his looks. Nevertheless there 
are some points in the conformation of a hunter that can 
hardly be ignored. Some general rules, mostly with nu- 
merous exceptions, it will be well to keep in mind when 
passing judgment on a horse for cross-country work. 

A large brainy head, with broad forehead and mild out- 
standing eyes, is, as far as my experience goes, one of the 
points to insist upon. Some horses with a thimbleful of 
brains are made to hunt, but without sufficient intelligence 
to go with judgment as well as courage. One who pos- 
sesses mere valour can never attain more than a moderate 
degree of proficiency. 

Some fools of horses may be driven through a run, but 
they do not enjoy it; they are simply slaves. Deliver me 
from keeping company with such an one in the hunting- 
field ! Hunting is, or should be, a partnership game, in 
which you and your friend the horse go out for a day's 
sport. The more intelligent the horse, the more level- 



24 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

headed, the more capable he is of entering into the spirit 
of the game, and of enjoying the day's run as well as his 
master. It must be remembered, however, that, besides size 
of brain, quality also is to be looked for. There are big 
basswood-headed horses, and there are small hickory-headed 
horses. Quantity must not be confounded with quality. 
Some brainy horses have from past bad management had 
their nerves shattered, so to speak, and what brains they 
have are a damage to them. On this point a study of 
physiognomy is a help. 

There are many rattle-headed, nervous, high-strung 
horses that make good jumpers, but not every good fencer 
is, by that same token, a good hunter. Almost anything 
in the shape of a horse can pull a harrow or go in harness, 
but for cross-country work a horse must possess the very 
highest qualities and the sum total of all the virtues of the 
equine race. He should possess courage that stops just 
short of recklessness, great nervous force with coolness, 
great energy with judgment, light-heartedness without fool- 
ishness, staying qualities of the best, good breeding, perfect 
manners. These are the qualifications of a high-class 
cross-country horse. These are also the qualifications of a 
high-class cross-country rider. If they are to be omitted 
from either, the horse should not be the one to suffer, for 
he has to look out for himself and the rider as well. Be- 
sides all this, the horse must have suitable conformation for 
the work, be a good feeder, and sound. 

One can hardly hope to find so many qualifications in a 
single animal, but if a horse that approaches this standard 
is found, forgive his shortcomings and be consoled with 



The Hunter: His Conformation 25 

the reflection that if he is not as good as he should be, he 
might have been worse. Remember this, too, that it is 
the part of horsemanship to fit the rider to the horse rather 
than to try to make the horse fit the rider. The greatest 
and best thing of all is to find in a horse an agreeable 
companion. A man will get on better with an old farm- 
horse that fits him than with a two-thousand-dollar quali- 
fied hunter that does not. 

I have heard some men declare that no horse likes hunt- 
ing. I am positive this is a mistake. No horse would 
like hunting with some men, but most horses with the 
proper conformation for saddle work do enjoy hunting 
when they are properly ridden. I have seen and schooled 
many green horses that from weanlings took readily to 
jumping, and several that when turned into a runway would 
jump back and forth over the hurdles of their own accord. 
I have had several green horses that, as soon as mounted, 
would of their own accord start away to the schooling- 
ground. Of some of these it has been hard to say whether 
they enjoyed the sport or not until they met hounds, and 
then they were as ambitious to get on with them as the 
rider, and not from excitement or fear, as one could tell by 
the collected way in which they jumped, but from sheer 
love of the sport. At a check other horses could come 
and go, but directly hounds moved they were off. I 
am speaking now of green horses. To some horses hunt- 
ing is an irksome task that never becomes anything but 
work or drudgery ; yet I believe that a large number of 
well-bred horses, providing, mind you, they are not pun- 
ished at their jumps by severe hands or spurs, really enjoy 



26 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the sport. It also goes without saying that there must be 
a great difference between a horse that has his heart in the 
sport and goes at it like a school-boy from his books, and 
one that has only a poor gizzard for the work. I have 
dwelt on this point because it demonstrates what I wish to 
bring out farther on in the chapter on " Schooling 
Hunters." 

Horses with short, thick necks do not make good hun- 
ters. I do not know of any exception to this rule. They 
are not easily brought to hand ; they invariably rein badly, 
and are apt to have hard, unyielding mouths. Avoid also 
a horse that carries a high head. This is another rule 
without an exception. The head of a hunter is quite high 
enough when his eyes are on a line with the height of his 
withers, as in the picture at page 22. This low carriage 
of a hunter's head is very important, and for several reasons: 
( I ) It enables the rider to lean well forward as his mount 
begins to spring at a jump (see page 96), and still have 
room for the horse to throw up his head with freedom in 
the natural act of jumping, without hitting the rider in the 
face. This point will be noticed more fully later on. (2) 
High-headed horses must be ridden with a shorter rein 
than horses with their necks straight. This is an objec- 
tionable feature, because, the longer the reins, the better and 
easier the control. This will be referred to again in the chap- 
ters on " Hands" and "Pulling." (3) When a high-headed 
horse is ridden at a jump, especially if he pulls and his head 
comes higher than its natural carriage, the animal is in a 
most awkward position to take his fence. He does so at 
the expense of an unnecessary amount of exertion, while 



The Hunter: His Conformation 27 

the rider's control of his mount is gone. (See page 28.) If 
there is one sight more annoying than another, it is a high- 
headed horse charging at fences and gazing at the stars. 
No one likes to put martingales on hunters, and very prop- 
erly not, for they need absolute freedom of their heads at 
their jumps. 

The position of the horse's head (page 92), when prop- 
erly held, gives to the hands the greatest length of rein 
and the best possible control of the mount. Control begins 
to lessen as the head is raised above this point. That a 
rather high-headed horse may, by being ridden with a curb- 
bit properly handled, have his head held in its proper place, 
there is no doubt. What I wish to point out is simply 
the most natural and best conformation or carriage of a 
hunter's head and neck, not the method of driving a high- 
headed harness type of a horse so that he may carry his 
head as it should be when he is under saddle. Riders who 
have had their glasses smashed, their hats knocked off, 
their teeth loosened, trying to make into a hunter a horse 
good except that he carried his head too high, will be shy 
in the future of high-headed horses for hunting. This 
point will be found illustrated at page 28. While a 
hunter should be long in the neck, the neck should not 
be drawn too fine. Horses with very slim necks gener- 
ally bend them too easily. Nothing is more annoying 
than a horse that turns only his head in answer to a pull 
on the reins, while his body goes straight on. One of the 
worst falls I ever saw in the hunting-field was with just 
such a horse. Slim Neck wanted to follow the horse in 
front of him. The rider, seeing that the ground was too 



2 8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

soft on the landing side, attempted to pull his horse away ; 
but the horse, instead of answering to his hand with a turn 
of his body, brought his head round until it nearly touched 
his rider's leg. On went the mount, striking the rail fence 
breast-high, horse, rider, and fence coming down in a crash. 
The rider was caught by the fence, and pinned to earth 
between it and his horse — a sickening sight. Fortunately 
for the rider, the ground was soft. Beside having an 
awful shaking up, and the flesh of his legs horribly scraped 
and bruised, he was left unconscious for several hours. The 
same thing occurred to a friend of mine, whose horse went 
slam-bang against a barbed-wire fence because his neck was 
too weak or too limber to answer to the pull of the rider. 
The poor beast was horribly mangled and nearly ruined 
for life. 

I have dwelt upon this point because it is one seldom, if 
ever, mentioned by writers, and because we hear so much 
nowadays about having "plenty of horse in front of you." 
So there should be; but look well to the substance of a 
hunter's neck. "There is ain thing aboot a hunter a canna 
forgie," said a keen hunting friend of mine in Scotland, 
" and that is a neck with na starch in it ! " The neck 
can hardly be too long unless too thin; it can hardly be 
too low unless too short and thick, and of two evils better 
a horse that bores than a horse that soars. You sometimes 
see in a dealer's stables these up-headed horses. They are 
generally clean trotting-bred animals that have had their 
manes pulled and their tails chopped oflF, and these are 
their principal qualifications as hunters. Some of them can 
jump, and we have seen this sort win at Madison Square 




The harness type. 




■'■■ ■^■" *««^ 



3fy«ifcxaanBwgtsg)i«aft,.;>:: 



The hack type. 



"^ffi^MHHW 



The Hunter: His Conformation 29 

when conformation counted fifty or sixty per cent. To an 
experienced cross-country rider, however, they look sadly 
out of form. 

"Slanting shoulders" is everywhere the cry. Every 
author I have read, and nearly every man that rides to 
hounds, if he hardly knows the fetlock from the forelock, 
will tell you a horse is no good for a hunter without slant- 
ing shoulders. So universal has this cry become that it 
suggests the parrot. " Slanting shoulders ! Look at his 
slanting shoulders!" But when you ask a man why he is 
so fond of slanting shoulders, the usual answer is: "Well, 
because 2i hunter should have slanting shoulders!" Occa- 
sionally a man will venture to say a horse with slanting 
shoulders can gallop faster. This is manifestly incorrect. 
Some of the fastest horses that have ever turned a track 
have had rather upright and sometimes even loaded 
shoulders. 

There was the celebrated thoroughbred stallion Barrett, 
by Bonnie Scotland, that held the three-quarter-mile record 
(1.14) for years. He was sent to England by Mr. Pierre 
Lorillard, with Iroquois, at the time that horse won the 
Derby, being the owner's favourite for that event, but 
scratched for uncertain starting at the post. This horse 
Barrett had not only rather upright but decidedly loaded 
shoulders. This, indeed, was the characteristic of many of 
the Bonnie Scotlands, and as a family they were the most 
celebrated record-breaking runners of their generation. 
So much for galloping. Through the kindness of Mr. 
Thomas Hitchcock, Jr., Barrett was sent to Genesee Val- 
ley, and for eleven years was at the head of the Squawkie 



30 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Hill Stud for getting hunters. It is safe to say that 
although most of his descendants were similar in confor- 
mation in this respect, no other thoroughbred stallion in 
America has produced so many high-class cross-country 
horses as this same stallion Barrett. So much for the 
jumping. We must look further than simply the slant of 
a hunter's shoulder. I am sorry to antagonise this most 
common belief in slanting shoulders ; one dislikes to sow 
seeds of discord among pet theories. But this slanting- 
shoulder craze has gone beyond all reason. 

Let us see if we cannot find a better reason than because, 
or speed, ox jumping qualities. Let us see if we cannot set up 
a hypothesis that will stand more of an assault than the 
present theories for slanting shoulders. A little reflection 
will prove that the proper position of a saddle on a horse 
for cross-country work, where there is jumping to be done, 
is one that places the rider well back, so that his weight 
comes as near the centre of gravity as possible. Flat-ra- 
cing and cross-country riding are things of entirely different 
colour. The forward seat, over the horse's shoulders, — a 
seat, in fact, where the position of a jockey lying along the 
neck of his mount brings the rider's centre of gravity well 
over, if not forward of, the fore legs of his mount, — has 
been demonstrated beyond question to be the very best po- 
sition under which a horse on the flat can extend him- 
self. Doubtless a horse with the weight on the shoulders 
makes the lift of the weight with the spring of the fore 
legs, which leaves the hind legs and quarters to do the pro- 
pelling with the least possible hindrance. On the other 
hand, while a horse may be ridden with the centre of grav- 







OT) 



O 

CQ 



CQ 



(U 



to 



o 



j[^21Ji££5SSI8^*i?S!?>^<^:vJ'si-*s 



■*5.-f;?>. - '".v . .<v..- -i- 



The Hunter; His Conformation 31 

ity over his fore legs across a field, it is obvious that in tak- 
ing a fence the best, the easiest, the most secure position of 
the rider must be well back. The position of a boy on a 
rocking-horse, or a person in a rocking-chair, best illustrates 
my meaning. When the centre of gravity on either the 
wooden rocking-horse or rocking-chair is forward of the 
centre, the motion is laboured and all in one direction. If 
a person sits too far forward in a rocking-chair, the forward 
rock corresponds to the landing side of a jump, and assists 
greatly in producing a spill. Seated too far back, one can- 
not make the rocker go forward without an undue exertion. 
This illustrates the taking-ofF position of a jump : the horse, 
like the person in the rocker, must make an unusual effort 
to carry the rider forward. This is so plain and simple a 
condition that it seems almost absurd to mention it. How- 
ever, it best illustrates the point under discussion. The 
theory of slanting shoulders is that they usually (but not 
always) have the effect of keeping the saddle well back, so 
that the rider does sit nearly at the centre of gravity of his 
mount. This he is able to maintain, when the horse is 
jumping, by simply leaning well forward as the animal rises 
to the obstacle, sitting upright when over the centre, and 
leaning well back as the animal descends, as illustrated at 
page 98. So far, I venture to say, the majority of my 
readers will agree. But, I ask, what is the value of slant- 
ing shoulders when, as sometimes happens, a horse is low 
in the withers, letting the saddle well forward .? It is evi- 
dent that, for keeping the rider back near the centre of 
gravity, high, sloping withers have quite as much virtue as 
slanting shoulders, for a horse may have the latter without 



3 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the former. Personally, I prefer a rather straight shoulder- 
blade, with high, full, sloping withers, to the most slanting 
shoulder-blade with low withers that lets the saddle forward 
on the shoulders. It is not enough to go strong on slant- 
ing shoulders, when it is quite as much a question of the 
conformation of the withers, and more a question of the 
setting on of the fore legs. That many men confound 
withers and shoulders, there can be little doubt ; this point 
is fully illustrated at page 32. Nor is this all: if a horse, 
as is quite often the case, has slanting shoulders, and also a 
long oblique true arm that brings the setting on of the fore 
legs well back, you have lost at this point all you have 
gained by the slanting shoulder. In other words, when 
you have a slanting shoulder with a long oblique true arm, 
it may bring the fore leg so far back that the centre of 
gravity has practically been moved ahead. So far, there- 
fore, as gravity is concerned, you might just as well have 
either a straight shoulder with high, full withers, or a 
straight shoulder with a short upright and true arm. Or, 
again, if you have a slanting shoulder with a long oblique 
true arm, or a slanting shoulder with low withers, the end 
in view has been defeated. I have dwelt on this at length 
because slanting shoulders are everywhere so much in 
favour, as if they were the alpha and omega of a hunter's 
conformation. At page 32 will be found an illustration 
(Fig. 3) showing the conformation of an ideal hunter with 
full, sloping withers that bring the rider well back over the 
centre of gravity on the upper line ; it will be observed, too, 
from the position where the girth would come, that the 
fore legs also are properly placed ; that is, well forward. 




eg. Rider's centre ot gravity'; ui, withers; s, shoulder-blade; /, true arm ; e, elbow-joint; g, girths. 

Fig. I. Upright shoulder with full sloping withers, keeping saddle and rider well back over horse's centre ; g, gravity. 

Fig. 2. Slanting shoulder with low withers, letting rider four or five inches farther forward than in Fig. i. 

F'ig. J. Slanting shoulder, full sloping withers with upright true arm, bringing horse's fore leg well forward of girths ; 

best possible conformation for cross-country work. 
Fig. 4. Slanting shoulder and full withers, same as Fig. 3. but along oblique true arm, placing the fore legs farther back 

than in Fig. 3, practically moves rider's centre of gravity forward in spite of slanting shoulder and full withers. 



The Hunter: His Conformation 33 

The reason why ladies in riding cross country to hounds 
are so uniformly successful in negotiating fences without 
falls is owing undoubtedly to their sitting sideways on the 
horse; that is to say, the centre of gravity of the rider is 
more generally brought over the centre of gravity of the 
horse than in the case of men, who, riding astride, sit more 
forward, especially if they ride with long stirrups. 

We shall have occasion to refer to this matter again 
when speaking of ** Seat " and " Jumping Fences." The 
whole thing is summed up: Select a horse with withers 
running well back and fore legs well forward of the girth ; 
these points secured, the shoulders may be left to take care 
of themselves. It is doubtful if the mere slant of the 
shoulder-blades plays any great part in the conformation of 
a hunter. It must be said, however, that the right sort of 
withers are more often found in company with slanting 
shoulders than otherwise. 

As for hips, do not turn your back on a horse with 
rather ragged hips and a sloping rump. They are not pretty 
or symmetrical, but if they carry the muscle well down to 
the hocks, you generally find that such a horse can gather 
his legs well under him for a spring, as shown at page 118. 
This is one of the chief characteristics of the Irish hunter, 
and for fencing he has no equal. 

It is hardly necessary to mention legs, those necessary 
auxiliaries to a horse. Plenty of bone and especially large 
knee and hock joints are most desirable. Pasterns on the 
long side for choice, and plenty of room between elbow-joint 
and body, are desirable. Do not be over-particular about 
splints or even curbs. The former are found on three- and 



34 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

four-year-olds more often than in horses of six and seven 
years. They usually disappear by absorption. That a young- 
horse has them is as much to his credit as it is for a child 
to have the measles or chicken-pox. 

Splints, and curbs too, lame a horse sometimes when they 
first appear. Do not condemn a horse w^ith sickle hocks if 
there is plenty of bone. They are very often found on the 
most powerful jumpers. 

Do not require a hunter to be too short-coupled. This 
is another threadbare sign that is always quoted as desirable. 
If a horse is to gallop he must have length somewhere. 
If he has a short top line or coupling, he must have length 
underneath or he cannot stride away. There must be room 
to get the stifles forward, or you will have a short choppy- 
gaited horse, and a most uncomfortable one. The short 
back is well enough theoretically, but not in practice. 
Three and even four inches between the last rib and hip 
are not too much, unless the horse has a weak loin. A 
light, slack loin is to be avoided in a horse, whether his 
back be long or short. 

A horse is usually as long in the body as he is high from 
the ground to the top of the withers. In many standard 
bred trotters and in some thoroughbreds length exceeds 
height. This proportion is also desirable in a hunter. 

A well-formed horse usually measures as far from the 
top of the withers to the under side of the body just back 
of the fore legs as he does from that point to the ground. 
If there is any difference in this measurement, let it be 
added to the body, not to the legs. A sixteen-and-one 



The Hunter: His Conformation 35 

body, both in height and length, on fifteen-three legs is far 
preferable to the reverse. 

A hunter, to be comfortable, should not unduly spread 
the legs of his rider by being too wide through the heart. 
However, the other extreme is equally bad, for there must 
be lung capacity ; and whatever a horse lacks in breadth 
through the heart he should make up in depth ; the deeper 
the better. The round-backed and thick-hearted horses so 
desirable in harness are not to be considered for a moment 
for saddle work, especially if they have, as is usually the 
case, low withers. When you have had a saddle turn with 
you once or twice, you will, like the writer, have learned 
this lesson by heart. Broad-chested horses are very apt to 
roll in their gait. 

For size, the question depends somewhat on the country 
to be hunted. A rough country requires a smaller or 
shorter-legged horse than a country which is flat. My 
own experience is that a horse from fifteen-two-and-a-half 
to fifteen-three is invariably the best in jumping and staying 
qualities. To a man on a horse of sixteen hands the fences 
do not look so high, but this is of slight advantage when 
other aspects of the problem are considered. The truth is, 
there seems to be just about so much force or endurance in 
a horse, and this lessens as you spread it out over more than 
the natural size of the family to which the horse belongs. 
Increased size invariably brings coarseness, putting the 
animal, so to speak, out of balance with himself. 

As to disposition, the best in the world is none too good. 
A man may have ridden all sorts of horses and first-class 



36 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

jumpers, but if he has never found a partner with intelli- 
gence enough to enjoy the sport as well as he himself does, 
he has yet to enjoy one of the principal delights of a day 
with hounds. Such horses are not plentiful. When a man 
finds one, he will probably regret it as long as he lives if he 
parts with him. Out of a hundred hunters you can prob- 
ably count the genuine sportsmen, the genuine hunters, on 
the fingers of one hand. In this respect the Irish hunters 
outclass all others. They are like the people who breed 
them, always ready for a lark, yet having the keenest in- 
stinct for self-preservation. They are light-hearted to a 
degree, and nothing suits them better than to have a hurly- 
burly rough-and-tumble scurry across country. They are 
just reckless and bold enough for such a game, and when 
mouthed and educated as only Irish hunters are, they will 
give you a day's hunting to be remembered as long as 
you live. I have seen them so joyous at the sight of hounds 
as fairly to squeal with delight, jumping and playing from 
sheer efi^ervescence of light-heartedness. Such an one is 
the horse for a companion, the horse for a partner in a 
day's sport. A genuine sportsman himself, he will pull you 
through. His heart as well as yours is in the game. 

There remains the final test of what may be called '* the 
personal equation." If he fails to pass this, reject him on 
the spot. You may be surprised to find your supposed ideal 
hunter not at all to your liking. He does not fit you, and 
you cannot seem to make yourself fit him. You feel un- 
comfortable on him, just as you would on a rocking-horse 
or a rocking-chair that pitched you too freely forward or 
backward. Seated on a horse that feels comfortable under 



The Hunter: His Conformation 37 

you in all his paces, you have found the horse for you. 
Look no further, let size, colour, markings, or confor- 
mation be what they may. You will be surprised, in try- 
ing twenty line-looking horses, to find, perhaps, that only 
four or five seem to fit you. A personal trial is the supreme 
test of excellence in a hunter. 



IV 
BREEDING HUNTERS 



The grass in the paddock grows up to her chest. 
Her tail has grown down to the ground. 

There under the oak she is taking her rest ; 

Her beautiful foal, who is one of the best. 
Flies by with a leap and a bound." 

POEMS IN PINK 




IV 
BREEDING HUNTERS 

THE BEST BREED GENERAL PRINCIPLES IN BREEDING SELECTION 

OF SIRE AND DAM SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES 

TREATMENT OF MARE AND FOAL 

[HOROUGHBREDS or thoroughbred grades 
are the only horses whose general conforma- 
tion makes them particularly suitable for 
saddle work. First of all, they are to the 
manner born, and their gaits, low in action, long in stride, 
elastic in motion, place them so far above all other breeds 
of horses for riding purposes that they have no competitors 
whatever. Long neck and low carriage of head, short 
upright true arm, great courage, endurance, and superior 
intelligence qualify them as the breed of all breeds best 
adapted for cross-country work. Unnumbered generations 
of careful breeding distinguish them as the aristocracy of 
the equine race. They have spirit and mettle, and indeed 
are of such a highly strung nervous temperament that it often 
requires a bit of horsemanship to get on with them ; yet, 
when a rider once learns to fit himself to their ways and 
humour their eccentricities, he is spoiled forever after- 
ward for any other breed of horses. Thoroughbreds are 
not the horses for the uninitiated ; they are, as Mr. Thomas 

41 



42 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Hitchcock aptly expresses it, " horsemen's horses." Most 
men who attempt cross-country riding begin with half- 
breeds, and generally end by riding nothing less than seven- 
eighths or clean-bred thoroughbreds. 

It is generally believed that in producing half- and three- 
quarter-bred horses the thoroughbred blood should come 
from the sire's side. Some of the highest class hunters I 
have ever known, however, have been bred the other way, 
the sire's side supplying the cold blood. 

Blue Rock, a famous hunter and steeplechaser, owned 
by Mr. William Littauer of the Genesee Valley Hunt,* is 
out of a clean-bred thoroughbred mare by a trotting-bred 
stallion. Blue Rock is a plain-looking horse, but his dis- 
position is faultless, and his fencing and speed between the 
flags and his most perfect performances in jumping contests 
have won any number of cups and prizes for his owner, who 
believes he is the best all-round horse that ever lived. The 
Duke of Beaufort, editor of the Badminton books on sport, 
says: "I prefer both sire and dam to be well-bred, but a 
well-bred mare and an underbred horse will produce a faster 
animal than a thoroughbred horse and an underbred mare." 

In a work of this kind there is room for only a few 
thoughts on the subject of breeding, and we will content 
ourselves with noting a few fundamentals not found in the 
usual works on horse-breeding. After fifteen years of ex- 
perience with a stud consisting of thoroughbreds, hackneys, 
English and French coach-horses, and thirty years in breed- 
ing cattle and sheep, the author may state his belief in a 
few general rules of breeding. 

* See page 22. 



Breeding Hunters 43 

Prepotent sires may generally be relied upon to transmit 
their conformation or external form, while the dams more 
generally transmit internal qualities, such as courage, speed, 
endurance, and vices. The characteristics of prepotent 
sires, however, are usually more noticeable in their daugh- 
ters, the sons in this respect generally resembling their 
dams. Again, prepotent sires are generally found to trans- 
mit their own qualities to the second generation through 
their daughters, while the characteristics of the dams are 
handed down to the second generation through their sons, 
as in this simple diagram : 

Sire son second generation 



Dam daughter second generation 

This seems to be nature's way of preserving the balance 
of power between the sexes. It will be observed that the 
above refers particularly to prepotent sires. There is little 
use in attempting to formulate any rules concerning any 
others. Most rules or theories in regard to breeding are 
beset with so many exceptions that it is very difficult to 
establish them. 

Of one thing, however, I am thoroughly convinced : 
that variations or abnormal characteristics are received 
principally from the dam and are acquired during the pe- 
riod of gestation. 

We are always repeating that old maxim, " Like produces 
like "; yet this cannot be strictly true, else there would never 
have been variations. All the different families of horses 



44 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

are undoubtedly descendants of one common stock. From 
the Shetland pony of three hundredweight to the mammoth 
Shire that tips the beam at thirty hundredweight, the 
pony of Wales, the Clyde of Scotland, the thoroughbred 
of England, and the trotter of America — all have one 
common ancestry. It is manifestly inaccurate, therefore, 
to say like produces like. The saying may be true in a 
certain degree of animals in a state of nature, but certainly 
not of animals under domestication. And so far as man is 
responsible for these variations, we should like to know 
when and under what circumstances he must act, or does 
act, to develope them. 

These artificial characteristics start in variations which, 
by careful selecting, breeding, and intelligent feeding, may 
in time become dominant. When acquired or artificial 
characteristics become dominant, then they may, under 
favourable circumstances, be transmittable. 

If a colt is better suited for cross-country work than 
either its sire or its dam or any of its more remote ances- 
tors, a variation or artificial characteristic has been pro- 
duced. I firmly believe that, whatever degree of excellence 
an animal ultimately arrives at above that of its ancestors, 
it receives the impetus from its parents. Subsequent care, 
feeding, and climatic influences may develope it, but cannot 
produce it. The time when it is within man's power to 
assist in the moulding and fashioning of the colt must be 
prior to its birth. 

Confucius taught that the age of a child should begin to 
be recorded from a year before it was born. It is on this 
principle, whether it has been recognised or not, that all 



Breeding Hunters 45 

great improvements have been made in domestic animals. 
Blackwell, Boothe, Bales, the noted short-horn breeders, on 
this principle developed the great short-horn families of 
cattle. The dairy breeds of cattle have been evolved by a 
similar schooling of the unborn calves for the greater pro- 
duction of milk and butter, until they have become as 
proficient in their way as have the great beef-producing 
families in the attainment of early maturity and easy fatten- 
ing qualities. 

The standard bred trotter is an offshoot of the thorough- 
bred. The trotting gait has developed in the offspring a 
conformation quite different from that of the thoroughbred, 
one that is better adapted to the purpose. Training may 
have developed the latent force the animal possessed, but as 
a spring cannot rise above its source, neither can an animal, 
after its birth, rise above its inherent character. The 
treatment of the sire before conception, and especially the 
treatment of the dam afterward, may elevate it. 

Anything you can do toward the education of the colt 
through his dam, the better. The dam should be turned 
out as soon as possible after conception, and treated and fed 
in a way to relax her muscles ; yet nothing better can hap- 
pen to the unborn colt than to have its dam occasionally 
used in schooling green hunters, say once a week or so. 
The best and most natural hunters that I ever raised came 
from mares that had this identical training. The best 
driving-horse I ever bred came from a mare that was occa- 
sionally driven while carrying her foal. While carrying 
her next colt by the same horse, the mare was never in 
harness, and the difference in the two colts as they grew 



46 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

up was so pronounced as to call my attention particularly 
to this subject. The first colt was a decided improvement 
on either sire or dam as to harness or road work, while 
the second one was barely up to and certainly not beyond 
them. The third colt by the same horse was a better 
roadster, but smaller than either the first or second, and I 
attributed this to my overdoing the matter in my desire 
to educate the third colt. The mare's muscles were not 
relaxed enough to give the colt proper room for develop- 
ment, and it never attained the size I believe it would 
otherwise have reached. 

What makes a colt a better roadster than any of its 
ancestors ? What power elevates a foal to a greater degree 
of proficiency and usefulness in cross-country work than its 
original stock ? I believe it is clearly within the bounds 
of reason, and to be demonstrated by any one with an op- 
portunity to test it, that it is owing to the imprint of a 
desire. If the sins of the fathers may be transmitted to 
the second and third generation, why not the virtues of the 
mothers ? Many mothers have children that are reproduc- 
tions, not of what they themselves are, but of what they 
temporarily were in thoughts, moods, and actions. The 
occasional use of a brood mare for a short cross-country ride 
during the period of gestation does the mare no harm, and 
can hardly fail to imprint upon the future generation an 
influence for good. 

My personal observation of this has been so striking that 
I do not hesitate to say a little schooling of this sort may 
help the future colt more in the part he is to play in the 
" noble science " than months of schooling after he is old 



Breeding Hunters 47 

enough to break. He may be expected to know some 
things intuitively that his mother had to be taught, and to go 
the right way about them from the first. A variation will 
have been produced, slight although it may be. In Ire- 
land, in-foal-mares are more often hunted than in any other 
country, and where in the wide world can one find such 
natural-born hunters as in the Emerald Isle? I shall have 
occasion to refer to some practical illustrations of this under 
the chapter on "Schooling." 

To my readers who have never given thought to this 
particular point in the science of breeding I beg to offer 
encouragement in it. If they are wanting in faith, let me 
ask what proofs they have that animals as well as men are 
not affected for good or ill in embryo ? I should advise all 
such to begin their research by reading the experiments of 
Jacob and his receipt for producing spotted cattle, and fol- 
low this up with the volumes of scientific matter touching 
heredity. So firmly am I convinced of the great impor- 
tance of this question that I believe the day will come 
when the best breeders will recognise it as a fundamental 
principle in the art of breeding for improvement. 

The object most desired in the breeding of hunters is 
the production of quality plus size. It is no trick at all to 
turn out small horses with quality. Horses of from fifteen 
to fifteen and a half hands often have quality to spare. 
The problem is to be able to obtain sixteen-hand horses 
and over which have body and bone and substance through- 
out in proportion to their increased size, and still retain in 
them the quality of the finer and smaller animals. The 
general method of selecting as sire the largest stallion that 



48 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

can be found, though theoretically sound, in practice sel- 
dom results satisfactorily. Size, with coarseness or lack of 
symmetry, which is still more objectionable, invariably fol- 
lows the mating of a large stallion with a small or medium- 
sized mare. Strange as it may seem, size with quality is 
invariably attained by mating a medium-sized stallion with 
a large or at least a roomy mare. The reason of this is 
obvious when we recall the fact that conformation follows 
the sire. Mere size in colts is more a question of room in 
the mare, of abundance of nutritious food during the period 
of gestation, and of a plentiful supply of milk from the 
dam after the colt is born. Of the two conditions neces- 
sary to grow a colt with size, — a roomy mare and feed, — 
the former is perhaps the more important. The disappoint- 
ment that invariably results for hunting men who breed 
their best hunting mare to the best stallion they can find 
comes from not understanding this simple fact. 

A mare that is kept constantly at work during the period 
of gestation is physically incapacitated to produce a sizable 
foal, owing to having hard, contracted, or unyielding 
muscles. It is on this account that the first foals of mares 
accustomed to work are usually inferior in size to the sub- 
sequent foals. This should teach us that the mare should 
be taken from work soon after mating, and treated in every 
way possible to relax her muscles. At the same time she 
should be fed liberally on all the succulent food she can 
eat, with bran and crushed oats added during the latter half 
of the period. With a medium-sized stallion of the high- 
est quality, and a mare made as roomy as possible, you may 
rely on feed to produce the necessary variation in size. 



Breeding Hunters 49 

With such a selection for the sire, with such a treatment 
of the dam, with such Uberal feeding of the colt through 
the dam, it will not be the breeder's fault, to say the least, 
if the colt is lacking in either size or quality. 

The next thing of importance is — after the colt is 
born — to feed the mare with the one idea of producing a 
bountiful supply of milk. Although the colt at birth may 
have latent the qualities one desires, one must remember it 
still remains for the breeder to see that it has the food neces- 
sary to develope that inheritance. 

There is one other point I must not fail to mention 
concerning the selection of a stallion. No sire, no matter 
what his breeding may be, is worthy of serious considera- 
tion unless he is thoroughly and throughout masculine. 
I have little or no faith in these effeminate stallions which, 
especially among our standard breds, are so much seen. 
I should look with suspicion on any stallion " as quiet as a 
mare," though this, in the estimation of some men, seems 
to be the sum total of excellence. A stallion, to my mind, 
should be of such a disposition and strength and courage as 
would naturally place him at the head of a herd or drove 
of wild horses. In the breeding of all domestic animals, 
we should strive to seek such sires as would come to the 
front by natural selection, that we may work in harmony 
with nature's law, i.e., *' the survival of the fittest." 

We shall not attempt now to follow this most interesting 
question of breeding further. We have only attempted to 
touch upon such points as practical experience and observa- 
tion have found running contrary to generally accepted 
theories, or which are omitted by other writers. 



50 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

For the sake of brevity these points may be summa- 
rised as follows : 

Breed from a clean-bred thoroughbred either on the 
sire's or dam's side. 

Prepotent sires transrnit their conformation, or external 
form and quality. 

The dam transmits the internal qualities, such as endur- 
ance and the vices and virtues. 

All families of horses have a common ancestry. 

What an animal is above its original parents, that much 
it is artificial. 

Like does not always produce like. 

Variation in domestic animals is principally due to man. 

Acquired or artificial characteristics, by selection and 
breeding and feeding become dominant. 

Dominant characteristics become transmittable. 

No animal can raise itself above its inherent level. 

Variation or improvement in characteristics takes place 
before birth. 

Variations are transmitted principally from the dam, and 
are acquired during the period of gestation. 

The best time to begin the schooling of a hunter is 
before it is born. 

Man's opportunity to breed for improvement ceases at 
birth. At that moment the die is cast. 

A sire of medium size, thoroughly masculine, and of the 
highest quality throughout, should be chosen ; also a dam 
roomy, or made as much so as possible. 

Feed is more potent than breed in producing size. 

The best way to feed a colt is through its dam. 



Breeding Hunters 51 

Our solicitude for the foal before it is born is to produce 
a variation that will place it above the level of its parents, 
the better to fit it for the one special purpose in life for 
which it is intended. We have left to the sire the task of 
supplying the colt with the quality we desire. It only 
remains for us to produce size, which, as we have shown, is 
the result of food and feeding principally. 

When the owner can provide succulent food and 
stables of sufficient warmth, January is the best time for the 
young hopeful to arrive. If these conditions cannot be 
fulfilled the colt had better postpone his coming until there 
is a good bite of grass. In either case, during the season 
before, if ensilage is not at hand, a patch of roots — car- 
rots or beets — should be provided as a succulent food. Dur- 
ing the autumn before, a patch of rye should be sown for a 
soiling-crop, to be followed by sowings of vetches and pease 
or oats and pease, so that by fly-time mare and foal may be 
put in a box during the daytime with a liberal feeding of 
green forage. Mare and colt should be turned out to pas- 
ture during the night only ; otherwise one not only feeds 
the colt through the mare, but myriads of flies through the 
colt. Mother and offspring will thus be provided with 
plenty of exercise, and if the stable is properly ventilated, 
and darkened to exclude the flies, as it should be, you will 
have surrounded both matron and foal with the very best 
conditions for the comfort and happiness of the one and 
the growth of the other. 

A feeding of bran with a few crushed oats once a day in 
the stall will be found the best possible investment. The 
feed should be in a trough long and low enough to enable 



5 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the foal to join the mother, which it will very soon learn 
to do. This is also an excellent time to accustom the colt 
to be handled and later to be introduced to the halter. 
But this, as Kipling says, *'is another story." Young 
mothers make much better milkers, as a rule, than mares 
who do not begin breeding until later in life. Whatever 
the breeder can do he should to assist the mother in pro- 
ducing a plentiful supply of milk. It is from the rich, 
succulent pastures of Great Britain that the horses and 
cattle of great size have come. The scanty feed on the 
Welsh hills and mountains has produced ponies. Whatever 
you do, provide soiling-crops for your mare and foal. 

Feed is the making of breed, but it is the making of 
breed so far only as to produce variation in size. Variation 
of characteristics comes, not from food, but from the imprint 
of a desire. 

Flies have robbed more owners of animals that would 
otherwise have been a credit to them as breeders than any 
other one thing that can be mentioned. On this account 
it is better to have the colt come in January or in the 
autumn, so as to have attained the size and strength neces- 
sary to fight for his life, as he is almost required to do 
during the fly season. What would many of us not give 
to have a colt out of our favourite hunting mare that should 
be a credit to the mare? How many thousands have tried 
and failed ? Let the writer's anxiety to point out what he 
believes to be the cause of such failures, and his kindly 
interest in hunting men in general and every high-class 
hunting mare in particular, be his excuse for this over- 
grown chapter. 



V 
SCHOOLING HUNTERS 



** Nor will it less delight th' attentive sage 

T' observe that instinct which unerring guides 
The brutal race, which mimics reason's lore 
And oft transcends." 

SOMERVILLE 




V 
SCHOOLING HUNTERS 

THE BEST AGE TO BEGIN MOUTHING AND LEARNING TO DRIVE 

SCHOOLING FOR SADDLE WORK LEARNING TO JUMP, 

RIGHT WAY LEARNING TO JUMP, WRONG WAY 

'HEN in 1880 I moved into the Genesee 
Valley and began the breeding, rearing, and 
schooling of hunters, I was thoroughly green 
at the business, and had quite as much to 
learn of the colts and green hunters as they had of me. 
Twenty-odd years of experience and observation before and 
after this have produced some very decided notions as to 
the best methods of schooling as well as breeding hunters. 
Others, of course, may have succeeded as well as I on en- 
tirely different lines, and as to the value of my system must 
judge for themselves. 

We have shown in the previous chapter that a hunter's 
education should begin before he is born. If the in-foal- 
mare happen to have a foal-at-foot, a most excellent oppor- 
tunity is offered to give both colts a kindergarten lesson in 
cross-country work. The foal-at-foot will readily follow 
its mother over a log or across a small ditch. Even if at 
first it goes around the log and steps carefully down into 

55 



56 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the ditch and out again, it will discover presently that it 
can more easily jump the log or the ditch than go around. 
Colts learn with astonishing quickness when they have 
the example of their mothers before them. The dam 
going over the obstacle first seems to give the colt the best 
possible incentive to follow, and an incentive in a colt's 
head is worth half a dozen stable-boys with half a dozen 
whips at his heels. 

And look at the foal ever close in her wake. 

The young one is true to the breed ; 
He judges his distance and knows how to take 
Off, just in the right place, and he lands with a shake 

Of his head that shows courage and speed. 

It was purely an accident that led me to the adoption 
of this system. A young horse who was being broken to 
jump not taking kindly to his fences, an old mare in the 
field was bridled and saddled to give the novice a lead. 
The foal-at-foot was put out of sight in the barn-yard, but 
broke out and joined her mother on the schooling-ground, 
and, rather than separate them again, was allowed to remain. 
We thought the foal would run around the wings of the 
jumps ; but she would take no chances of being separated a 
second time from her dam, and took all the jumps by the 
mother's side. To make a long story short, the two colts 
thus educated were the most natural cross-country horses I 
ever saw. The younger one especially would, as a weanling, 
jump back and forth over the bars in a runway of her 
own accord for the sheer love of the sport. This was the 
chance beginning of a system of training that has been 
most successful in producing natural jumpers, as well as 



Schooling Hunters 57 

prize-winners at Madison Square and fairs in western New 
York. 

Whyte-Melville, in his work " Riding Recollections," 
has something of the same import to say about Irish brood 
mares. In some counties of Ireland, he relates, the brood 
mare, with foal-at-foot, is allowed to run wild over exten- 
sive districts and leaps in leisurely fashion over stone 
hedges or mounds of turned-up sod from pasture to pasture, 
never asking for a gate. Wherever the mother goes the 
little one dutifully follows, acquiring instinctive courage 
and sagacity that are afterward to be the admiration of 
crowded hunting-fields. 

Certain general principles of horse-lore the trainer should 
always bear in mind : 

(i) The horse is intellectually the most highly devel- 
oped and temperamentally the most nervous of domestic 
animals. 

(2) He is capable of being trained to a very high de- 
gree of proficiency in any direction consistent with his 
environment. 

(3) His one great weakness is fear; yet he may come to 
have such confidence in man that he will perform feats of 
daring and face danger which under ordinary circumstances 
he would never attempt. 

(4) The secret of successful horse education is the de- 
velopment of confidence, and anything, therefore, that can 
be done to strengthen or promote confidence may be 
accounted an aid to his education. Similarly, anything 
conducive to fear is a hindrance to his schooling. 

On these simple fundamental principles ** hangs all the 



58 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

law." It is one thing to break a horse, and another to 
educate him. Keep in mind the animal's natural timidity, 
and seek always to overcome this by winning his confidence. 

One of the most important things in the training of a 
horse is mouthing. The universal fault with nearly all 
American- and Canadian-bred horses is that they have " no 
mouths," the causes being severe bits, bad hands, and driving 
begun without a course of ** mouthing." 

When we consider that all our commands or wishes are 
communicated to a horse through the lines and the bit in 
his mouth, the importance of having a horse with a sensi- 
tive mouth is apparent ; and if this is true of horses in 
general, what shall be said of the necessity of having sensi- 
tive mouths in horses that are to carry us through a run to 
hounds, where the excitement is little short of a cavalry 
charge on the field of battle ? A person is supposed to ride 
to hounds for the pleasure it affords. What pleasure can a 
man derive from sitting on a puller that makes him work 
his passage from start to finish ? 

Of all horses, the most objectionable on a hunting-field 
is first the puller and second the rusher at his fences — gen- 
erally they are one and the same animal. No horse is 
quite fit to be ridden to hounds until he can be safely rid- 
den with a common ring-snaffle bit. Most horses' mouths 
have become so calloused and deadened to feeling by severe 
usage in breaking them, and by bad, heavy hands after- 
ward, that nothing short of a very severe bit or curb can 
control them. The first bit put into a colt's mouth had 
better be a smooth wooden one attached to the halter with- 
out reins, or a straight iron one covered with leather. 



Schooling Hunters 59 

One hour is quite long enough for the first lessons. After 
a week of this preliminary bitting, the " dumm jockey " 
and slack reins may be added. After this may come the 
guiding lessons with long driving-reins run through the 
side-rings of the dumm jockey. 

During the first driving lessons the colt should be 
handled on the barn floor or some other small enclosure. 
Besides the wooden or smooth iron bit, place in his mouth 
the loop of a cord, the cord being carried over the head or 
neck, behind the ears, down through the loops, and on 
the back through a ring in the dumm jockey. When he is 
taken outside he will be sure to attempt to run. Now, 
instead of attempting to restrain him vigorously by the 
reins, bring him to hand by the use of the cord, which 
does not affect the part of the mouth you wish to keep 
sensitive to the bit. 

If a colt can be thoroughly broken to drive and ride 
without impairment of the sensitiveness of his mouth, we 
have accomplished one of the most important feats con- 
nected with horse education. Of course this takes time, 
and is contrary to the so-called " breaking " system, which 
invariably ruins the mouth and many times breaks the spirit 
and heart of a colt before it has accomplished anything 
toward the animal's education. This question of mouth- 
ing a colt is much better understood in England, and espe- 
cially in Ireland, than in America. We shall notice this 
subject again in the chapter on " Hands." 

After the colt has learned to rein right and left and to 
back, a sack of bran fastened on behind the dumm jockey for 
an hour a day is a good thing to accustom him to weight. 



6o Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

The bran may be substituted by oats, or still heavier grain, 
for a week or more, before a boy is put up. The colt 
could no doubt be mounted much sooner ; but the slower 
way is best. 

Nine colts out of ten can be thoroughly broken without 
ever striking them a blow with the whip. If one takes 
time, it is only in very rare cases that the whip is necessary. 
When colts or horses set up a fight, throw them carefully. 
There is nothing that takes the conceit out of a horse like 
being thrown. Be sure he knows it is you that do it, and 
that it is by your hand he is liberated. If a colt or horse 
absolutely refuses to jump a fence, it is usually because of 
fear, and you should return to lower jumps to restore his 
confidence in himself. If the fight is one of viciousness 
and a trial for mastery, take him to the stable and throw 
him. There is nothing like it. But, whatever you do, 
never jerk or maul him about. 

Always bring a colt on slowly in his lessons, and let the 
lessons be easy. Never in one lesson ask him to do quite 
all you know he can, and you will give him the idea that 
he can do anything you ask him to. You may break a 
colt by fear, but confidence is the means by which he is 
educated. 

A horse does not reason, but he has a very highly de- 
veloped instinct. He learns by absorption, which is the 
result of association. By association, companionship with 
man, his wonderful instinct is developed to a degree little 
less effective than reason. He should be convinced that 
whatever you do is right ; that you are his best friend. 
Never deceive or disappoint him, and you will soon find 



Schoolino; Hunters 6t 

him looking to you, believing in you, and having faith and 
confidence in all you do and say. Wherein lies our 
supremacy over these powerful animals ? Entirely in their 
imagination. As long as you can keep their confidence, a 
silken cord will lead them. Make them mind through 
fear, and your only safety is in an iron chain. 

What if it does take a little time ? Think of the time it 
takes to teach us men some of the simplest things ! We 
do not ask a boy to do fractions until he has had a lot of 
schooling at easier work. We know that it would dis- 
courage him and cause him to lose interest. The same 
thing happens when we rush a colt on in his lessons. He 
is confused and rattled, makes some big mistake, hurts him- 
self, becomes frightened, hates the work, loses confidence, 
thinks his trainer a fool, falls back on his own judgment, 
gets a thrashing, fights back, gets another, gives up ex- 
hausted, and finally drops to the level of a slave. With no 
heart, no interest, he shirks all he can, and is sold or dies 
without regret, all because we were in a hurry. And there 
is no horse that more requires the slow, methodical training 
than the colt destined to be a high-class hunter, because, 
as I have already shown, he must possess so many high- 
class qualifications. 

For jumping, if you are to begin with a weanling, let 
him find a bar eighteen inches high obstructing his way — 
one he can with effort step over — when he goes to and from 
water, or a ditch to jump across when going or returning 
from pasture — one he can step down into at first. He will 
soon take to jumping these obstacles as the easiest way of 
getting over. Do not make any of these jumps anything 



62 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

like as high as you know the colt could take. Keep them 
low at first, so that he will not be flurried. 

After a month your weanling will have such perfect con- 
fidence that he will begin to acquire knowledge of other 
things, viz. : how best to gather his hind legs under him 
before making the spring, and also how to judge the dis- 
tances. Next winter the same jumps can go a few inches 
higher. He could jump four feet if you asked him, but do 
not ask him. Whatever you do, keep the fences low. 
The thing you wish now to teach is not high jumping, but 
confidence to gather and take off. After this winter it is 
quite as well not to ask the colt to jump any more until 
you begin to ride him, for he may contract bad habits. 

I have little faith in the " larking " system. The worst 
refusers I have ever seen in the hunting-field were horses 
daily larked as colts until they jumped over six feet. It is 
one thing for a colt to get himself over a jump, and quite 
another thing to carry weight over. 

During the winter in which he reaches three years old 
the colt should be bitted or mouthed as described on page59, 
taught to rein and back, and be broken to harness. Toward 
spring he is mounted. The following summer, when three 
past, his jumping lesson with a rider up begins. 

A light snaffle-bit is put on, and he is taken out, in com- 
pany with an old hunter, over a ditch say two feet deep 
and a log two feet high on the way to his exercise, and a 
little higher across the log and at a deeper place in the 
ditch coming home. The incentive of returning home 
gives you this liberty. The colt himself says all this is too 
easy, but give him two months of it, nevertheless. Make 



Schooling Hunters 63 

him walk or trot up to all the jumps and drop to a walk 
immediately after. One desires anything but a rusher in 
the hunting-field. Horses without confidence in themselves 
invariably rush their fences. With some horses jumping 
never becomes more than a sort of neck-or-nothing adven- 
ture, and half-schooled horses, nervous horses, and fright- 
ened horses rush. Sometimes, too, it is because these con- 
ditions, one or all of them, are present in the rider. 

Your colt so far has never refused. There comes a 
trial of your judgment and horsemanship when a friend or 
a customer rides up just as you are jogging out with slack 
rein and snaffle-bit for the daily baby jumping exercise, and 
the temptation assails you to show off your colt. But let 
your visitor go home thinking you are afraid to put him 
at anything over three feet. Bide your time. 

Next fall, when he is four past, take him up. Early in 
July have him shod and begin again at the easy jumps, 
sometimes alone, sometimes in company, with now and 
then a bit of a canter, slowing down to and after your 
fences. If you can occasionally take him out with hounds 
when they are going for exercise, do so. Of course you 
will always ride him at his fences in a way that puts reso- 
lution into the action. You settle down firmly in the 
saddle, giving him to understand by the pressure of your 
legs that you are ready. Of course you could go over such 
a jump without all this, but you must keep in mind his 
future. 

When you settle into the pigskins with a grip of your 
legs, it says to your colt that you see the obstacle and are 
prepared to take it with him. You never have deceived 



64 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

him. He believes in you thoroughly, and takes a three- 
foot jump in his stride with as much confidence as he did 
the eighteen-inch jump when he was a weanling. Up 
to this time he has never been asked to jump over three 
feet ; but now you take him out, and on the way home you 
have some new things, say three-feet-six. Nothing like 
that stops him now. You have jumped him a thousand 
times, and it always turned out all right. At this point 
you could take that colt through half a run with hounds, 
and the chances are he would give many an old qualified 
hunter a lead over four or even five feet of timber. He 
has a nice mouth, and nothing rattles him. He does not 
worry or pull, knows no such thing as refusing, has ab- 
solute confidence in his rider, and can jump, and does 
jump, anything. The writer has had many falls, but after 
adopting this method of schooling he never had a horse go 
down with him but once. An equally good report comes 
from hunting men in various parts of the country who 
have had experience with hunters similarly trained. 

Whatever a trainer feels obliged to do by way of cor- 
recting a youngster or a greenhorn, my advice is, never 
punish him when he is taking a lesson, especially not when 
he is in the act of jumping. A colt, if he is whipped or 
spurred or injured or even made uncomfortable every time 
he jumps, associates the act of jumping with something that 
is going to hurt him, and refuses or rushes it, not from fear 
of the jump, but of the pain he expects to accompany it. 

The necessity of having a stable-boy or special rider that 
has perfect hands and seat and the best of tempers should 
be noted. It is not too much to say that most faults in 



Schooling Hunters 65 

hunters spring from the bad bringing up, bad hands, bad 
seat, or bad temper of the trainer. 

Such is the right way to school hunters. The method 
usually adopted — the wrong way — is about as follows: 

A promising half- or three-quarter-bred horse four or 
five years old is bought in Canada. He has been broken 
to saddle, but knows nothing about jumping. He arrives 
at the owner's stable after a day and a night in the train. 
The same day, or the next at latest, he is turned loose in a 
runway with the bar at three feet, refuses it, gets a 
whipping, is chased at it again and again, and finally jumps 
it. Then he is sent at it again. Over he goes; over 
again. ** Good ! " The bar is now put up to three feet 
six. Over he goes, with a rap on the shins that knocks 
the feeling out of his legs. "That 's all right. He '11 
jump high next time." And so he does. At it again. 
" Good ! " He clears the bar with a foot to spare. " He 
will make a hunter; no mistake." Up goes the bar to 
four feet. This last jump rattles the novice. He 
jumped so high before that he was frightened by the 
height he found himself at. He begins to tremble, now it 
is over, at the mere recollection of it. " Send him at it 
again." After him they go, whip in hand, shouting and 
yelling enough to frighten an Indian. In this next effort 
the poor horse loses heart at the last moment, braces his 
feet, slips, and slides against the bars shoulder-high. The 
bars fall with a terrible rattle and crash at his feet. 

"Put them up again! Don't let him go back to the 
stable without making him accomplish what you set out to 
do." At the bars goes Novice again, with a stinging cut 



66 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

of the crop. The poor beast is frightened nearly out of 
his wits. "Now chase after him with your whip. Oh, 
horror! The fool has no sense." He was going to jump, 
but lost his head ; his heart failed him ; took off too soon ; 
struck the top of the bar with such force as to send it 
flying, while the frightened horse came down on the 
remaining bars, his fore legs on one side of the jump, his 
hind legs on the other. 

Up go the bars again. A neighbour who has been 
invited to see " the best horse that ever came out of 
Canada" is looking on. The owner grows angry. "He 
has got to jump it now, anyway." Meanwhile the poor 
horse, with wild eyes and shaking flanks, is nearly paralysed 
with fear. Thus the punishment, and so-called schooling, 
goes on. The next day, a boy being put up, with a man 
to help on, the poor horse jumps simply to escape the pun- 
ishment. He hates the sight of a runway, and of his 
master as well. 

See him in the hunting-field a month or two later, with 
wild eyes and restless air. When hounds go away he is as 
if crazy: rushes his fences; goes on; gets a thrashing for 
refusing; jumps this fence; expects a thrashing and spurs at 
the next as a part of the programme, but smashes into it.' 
For this he gets a whack as he lands. He grows worse 
and worse. His owner can hardly hold him by the curb. 
At the next fence he takes off too soon, landing on his head 
on the opposite side, while his rider "goes to grass." 

In how likely a condition will this poor brute be to be- 
come a good hunter ! It is a shame that man has the 
power so to abuse and ruin the happiness of a dumb brute. 



Schooling Hunters 67 

Does reason say we can ever make a hunter of such a 
horse ? We may make a jumper of him, but between such 
a horse and the one I previously described there is an 
impassable gulf. They are not to be mentioned in the 
same class at all. Look at the two horses going home 
after a run to hounds — one sad, melancholy, unhappy; 
the other cheerfully tired, bright, and contented. 

Will a horse schooled by the system herein recom- 
mended never make a mistake ? Certainly he will ; but he 
will not blame his rider for it. He is as eager to follow 
the game as the rider is. The other horse would stop at 
the first fence and go home if he could. In one you have 
a boon companion, in the other a poor dumb slave. In 
hunting there is, or should exist, a partnership between 
rider and horse. The rider should make himself so agree- 
able to the horse that the horse will never object to the 
relationship. 

A good hunter is one that answers to the hand readily, 
has a good mouth, does not rush or bolt his fences, and is 
not flustered at other horses passing or by the sight of 
hounds. 



VI 
BUYING A HUNTER 



**And when you have taken the horse as a friend 
Through trouble and care, you 're prepared to defend 
Him, as something sent down from above." 

RHYMES IN RED 

"The very sight of him makes you feel all over like 'unting." 

JOROCKS 




VI 
BUYING A HUNTER 

THE HORSE-DEALER AND THE JOCKEY TWO WAYS OF BUYING A 

HORSE HOW SOME BUYERS GO ABOUT IT THE 

MARRIAGE CEREMONY 

HORSE-DEALER is generally looked upon 
as a rogue — as if the notion prevailed that a 
man can be honest and square in every business 
but that of dealing in horses. When Amer- 
ica was new there were what is known as horse-jockeys 
or horse-traders, a profession nowadays confined mostly to 
gypsies. It has come about, however, that horse-dealers 
are, unfortunately, too often confounded with horse-jockeys. 
I think it is not too much to say that dissatisfaction over 
horse-dealing is due to the buyer, or his coachman, or a 
friend, more often than to the dealer. As a matter of fact, 
the deception is rarely all on the side of the dealer. 

Most men go about a horse deal too craftily. They 
drive up to a dealer's stables with a groom, or a friend, or 
both. 

** Just passing, and thought we would come in and have 
a look at your horses," they say, (Deception number one : 
they came on purpose.) " Don't want to buy ; just look- 
ing round." (Deception number two.) 

71 



72 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

" Perhaps if you saw something to suit, you might buy,'* 
says the dealer. 

" Oh, no ! More horses than I know what to do with. 
Horses to sell ! " (Deception number three : they came on 
purpose to buy.) 

It is amusing to see how many men go about buying a 
horse in this deceptive way, imagining themselves very 
bright and clever. They seem to think they have hit 
upon a new idea of getting the best of the dealer and 
taking him off his guard. They will buy a horse 
for two hundred and fifty dollars which, if the dealer 
knew they wanted it, would cost three hundred dollars or 
more. 

Is the dealer sharp ? It is the foolish buyers who make 
him so. By the time the would-be customer has looked 
over two or three horses the mask drops and the dealer 
can read him like a primer. 

" What 's the price of this one ? " the gentleman asks, 
with what is intended to be great unconcern. No answer ; — 
the dealer wants to confirm himself in his belief that his 
visitor really intends to buy. The customer repeats the 
question. The dealer pays no heed, but says : " Come on, 
gentlemen ; I have a promising youngster in this box." 
The horse the customer has been inquiring the price of is 
the horse he came to buy ; the dealer sees that he has no 
interest whatever in looking at the promising youngster. 
He calls attention to still another horse, — his own hunter, 
for instance, — one he would not sell. '* There, gentlemen, 
is one of the best horses I own, but I would not recom- 
mend any one to buy him." 



Buying a Hunter 73 

The dealer is having a bit of fun. His visitors intended 
to be smart, and he has to match them. 

*' Should not advise any one to buy that horse ? Why 
not ?" they ask. And he whispers in his customer's ear of 
this or that trifling fault or defect, until finally he brings 
his customer round to saying what he ought to have said 
in the first place : 

" What do you ask for the bay? " 

" Which bay do you refer to ? " asks the dealer, still de- 
termined to bring his customer to business. He has dealt 
with all sorts of horses and colts, — green ones, mild ones, 
crafty ones, and vicious, — and has never failed to outgen- 
eral and bring them to his own way of thinking without 
their suspecting how. He is working the customer in the 
same fashion. 

" The bay in the box." 

" Oh ! " 

Then the dealer turns squarely to the buyer and says : 
" See here ; do you want to buy ? " 

" Well, that depends upon the price." 

" We shall not disagree about that." The truth is, he 
does not know what to ask, since the groom, up to this 
time, has not had a chance to tell the dealer how much he 
wants for himself. *' Better see him out first," he adds. 
*' I should like you to mount him." 

The horse is taken out and tried, the groom meanwhile 
making his wants known. " What do you want for that 
horse ? " he asks, sotto voce. *' I want four hundred and 
twenty-five dollars net," is the reply. " Ask five hundred 
and come down to four seventy-five ; see .? " 



74 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

This is what takes place nearly every day in a dealer's 
yard. A customer tries to be clever with the dealer, and 
meets more than his match. The groom has made more 
out of his employer than the dealer has. 

Presently up rides customer number two, the right sort. 

" Good morning, dealer. Look here ; I am looking for 
a well-mannered hunter — something you can recommend. 
I want him for a gentleman." 

Out comes the bay again. 

" Well, what about this one, dealer ? " 

And the dealer proceeds to answer without exaggeration. 
The bay is bred so-and-so ; has had three months' school- 
ing ; has been ridden several times to hounds; pulls a bit 
more than the dealer likes, but seems to be coming to his 
hands nicely. With another month or so of schooling he 
should make a very good hunter. 

** How much ? " asks customer number two. 

" Four hundred and twenty-five." 

The horse is tried, liked, and bought. 

When would-be buyer number one learns from buyer 
number two that he bought his horse for four hundred and 
twenty-five, he protests. *' Oh, confound that dealer ! He 
tried to sell me that horse this morning for five hundred 
dollars. I shall never patronise him again. Every horse- 
dealer I ever had anything to do with always tried to get 
the best of me." 

This is one example of the average buyer, the average 
dealer in horses, and the wrong and the right way to buy a 
horse. Don't ask a dealer if his horse is sound and then 
feel for unsoundness. Look him over carefully, if you like. 



Buying a Hunter 75 

and then, if you wish, ask the question. Do not ask 
the age of a horse and then look into his mouth. Go the 
other way about it, or keep away from any man whom 
you would suspect of deceiving you. Go to a dealer who 
has his reputation to make or keep, and go as straight 
about the bargain as you would in buying a yard of cloth. 

An honest dealer, because his point of view is imper- 
sonal, knows better than one's friends what one wants, pro- 
vided, that is, one tells him just how much of a horseman 
one is. It may be humiliating, but it is the best and only 
way. There is hardly a man in the business that will not 
fit you out in this way with as much care as if you were 
his own son. If, for any reason, he fails the first time, go 
back and tell him the difficulty. Most dealers will take 
an endless amount of pains with such a customer, changing 
horses until he is suited. Go preferably, if you are a hunts- 
man, to some dealer in a hunting county. Let him give 
you a mount and ride with you to learn the degree of your 
horsemanship. If you are not sufficiently advanced in 
horsemanship to adapt yourself to all sorts and conditions 
of horses, be sure to try the horse yourself. You may find 
a thousand-dollar horse so uncomfortable for you that he 
would give you no pleasure, while another one at half the 
money would fit you perfectly. 

If you must take some one with you, take some profes- 
sional dealer who knows just what kind of horse you 
require, agreeing beforehand to pay him a certain commis- 
sion if you buy. If you are buying of a farmer, beware 
lest he is ignorant in regard to soundness. He may tell 
you his unsound horse is sound simply because he does not 



76 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

know any better. A dealer, on the other hand, is not 
likely to buy an unsound horse. The horse you buy from 
him is, generally speaking, worth all the difference between 
the farmer's and the dealer's price. There is hardly much 
advantage in buying of a farmer unless you can give your 
horse the necessary training yourself. This, indeed, is 
much the better plan if you can afford time and have skill 
and taste for the work. A man could hardly have a better 
training for himself, even, than the personal education of a 
hunter. 

Here is another example of a bargain between a buyer 
with a confirmed notion that allowances must be made for 
whatever a dealer says — the buyer, strangely enough, who 
is always "getting stuck" — and the dealer who can talk 
horse, one of those fellows whose tongue is operated on 
ball bearings and has been plentifully lubricated with 
butter. If a fool is born every minute, these two drew 
their first breath at the same tick of the clock. 

" Can he jump ? " asks the buyer. 

" Jump ! Well, you see that seven-bar stake and rider 
fence ? Well, he jumped that from a standstill when he 
was a weanling." 

" Can he run ? " 

" Run ! Well, I should say ! My stable-boy had him 
down to the track the other day where there are a lot of 
thoroughbreds in training, and they coaxed him into having 
a turn. Well, sir, to make a long story short, he left the 
bunch as if they were standing." 

" Has he courage ? " 

" Courage ! Why, bless you, I do believe you can jump 



Buying a Hunter 77 

him right over a locomotive engine. He would try a 
church if you sent him at it." 

"Is he sound? " 

"Well, now, I want to tell you I have been dealing in 
horses for the last forty years, and, really, I never owned a 
sounder horse in all my life." 

The buyer here looks for splints and curbs, which is the 
extent of his ability to judge soundness. 

" That 's right," says the seller ; ** look him all over care- 
fully. Not a scratch or a pimple on him anywhere. If 
you find one I will give him to you," — etc., without end. 

All I have to say is that if a buyer is foolish enough to 
patronise such men or to be caught by such chaff as this, it 
serves him right. Buy your own horse. Go alone and 
tell the truth. That the horse you buy to-day may go 
lame to-morrow, or take cold on the way home and die in 
a week, is n't anybody's fault. The buyer took the same 
chances with the same horse. Don't expect a green-silk 
umbrella for fifty cents. There are a hundred and one 
things likely to happen to a horse. Take your share of 
hard luck when it comes your way as a true sportsman 
should. In the buying of the best, the soundest, the most 
perfect-mannered horse in the world, you gamble on how 
he will turn out in your hands. 

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Men who 
have learned a little about horses are invariably conceited. 
What they know has been picked up by talking horse at 
the club or reading some one's receipt for " How to Tell a 
Good Horse." These are among the men who are always 
getting stuck. Their bumps of conceit usually cost them 



78 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

a good bit of money before they develope into real horse- 
sense or knowledge. They remind one of the boy who, 
when asked how he was getting on in arithmetic, replied : 
"Oh, I am almost through studying it. I have finished 
the * add-ups' ; I 'm now in the * take-froms ' ; and when I 
learn to multiply I shall be all through with arithmetic." 
Here is another example of a would-be clever buyer of a 
hunter. This kind writes a letter : 

New York City, April 7, 1901. 
Mr. Horse-dealer., 

Dear Sir : It occurs to me that I should like to inquire if you 
have any good hunters on hand. I don't know that I want to buy, 
but if I should I should want a horse fifteen-three hands, bay with 
black legs and a star in the face. I do not object to one hind foot 
being white. I like plenty of action, especially knee and hock action; 
short back with a long stride ; high head-carriage without check, and 
nice long pasterns. He must not be afraid of anything. If you 
have such a horse I might like to have him, if you would take in 
exchange one I bought last month of Blank, Please answer by 
return mail, and greatly oblige 

Yours truly, 

Richardson Doe. 

P.S. Please send photos of the horses you have for me to 
choose from. 

It is amusing to see one of these conceited chaps in a 
dealer's stables, looking for a curb, picking up a foot, — 
usually only one, on the nigh side, — glaring into the horse's 
eyes to see if he is blind, appearing very wise after the 
manner of doctors when they do not know what is the 
matter with their patient, and asking the dealer: "Is he 
sound?" Flattered by the dealer's "You can probably 
judge better than I ; I can always tell by the way a man 



Buying a Hunter 79 

goes about a horse if he is a good judge," — he buys the 
horse without further question. And how he squeals when 
he finds he has paid five hundred dollars for a hundred- 
dollar screw. He is deceived again, and the dealer gets 
the credit for it. 

I repeat, I have always noticed that when a man has the 
courage to tell a dealer he knows nothing about horses, 
and depends entirely upon what the dealer says, he seldom 
has much fault to find with what he buys. I remember 
once when a dealer lost the sale of a horse because a little- 
knowledge man said he was too straight in the shoulders. 
The same man bought the same horse a week after from 
the same dealer, who had done nothing in the meantime 
but dock the horse's tail and pull his mane ! 

Speaking of docking reminds me of a laughable horse 
trade that took place near Passaic, New Jersey. A dealer 
by the name of Mahoney came to town with a car-load of 
horses, of which he sold one to a sewing-machine agent. 
When the dealer arrived in Passaic with his next consign- 
ment, the sewing-machine man came back to him declar- 
ing that the horse was unsatisfactory, and received about 
half of the money he had originally paid for him. A few 
days later his partner bought a horse of the dealer. It was 
the same horse, only docked. If a dealer is sharp, it is the 
customer that makes him so. 

I have had all things happen to my horses that horse- 
flesh is heir to, but I have never felt that I was cheated 
purposely by the seller, except once. The idea that dealers 
go about the country buying unsound, worthless horses, to 
cobble them up, dope the crazy ones, and whisky the lazy 



8o Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

ones, is the most absurd notion that ever entered the pubHc 
mind. Yet people have heard so much of this that they 
really expect to be cheated, and, if a horse goes wrong in 
a month, v^^ill say they only looked for as much. It is 
strange w^hat notions some people have. They buy a house 
that burns down, hire a coachman who developes rheuma- 
tism, a footman who gets a sore throat, a servant-girl who 
gets married, a butler who may die the week after he 
comes into the house. All this, they say, is providence. 
But if any of the thousand and one things that are likely to 
overtake a dumb beast happen within six weeks or two 
months after he comes into their possession, it is not provi- 
dence, but the dealer. They are " stuck again." 

Tell the dealer just what you want of a horse, and how 
much experience you have had in riding. Tell the truth, 
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Tell him, 
even, he may send ten or fifteen dollars to your groom and 
add the same to your bill. You may think your groom is 
too honest to accept the fee, but see that he has his tip, or 
your horse, however good, may never suit, and there will 
be no end of fault-finding, until you give up in despair and 
tell the groom to buy the next one himself — which is 
what he wanted you to do. 

Neither should a man boast of his riding or driving to 
his dealer. He may mislead him into selling him a horse- 
man's horse when he ought to have an amateur's horse. 
The buyer may find he cannot ride his new purchase : he 
is a refuser, he pulls, is irritable, will not feed after his run 
to hounds. Why ? Because his rider has no hands ; he 
balances himself by holding hard on his mouth when he 
jumps. The hunter gets to pulling : the rider gets his reins 



Buying a Hunter 8i 

mixed, and pulls on the curb instead of the snafBe. His 
hunter returns after a run in a state of nervous prostration, 
breaking out in a cold sweat : his rider does not know- 
that every time he landed he jabbed the spurs into him. 
From want of horsemanship he took more out of his 
mount in a single run than he should have done in four or 
five runs of proper riding. The trouble was, he was " over- 
horsed." The man who sold the horse, a thorough horse- 
man, may have taken the same horse through a harder run 
on the best of terms, with sheep twine for reins. 

The buyer says he has been deceived ; on the contrary, 
he has deceived the dealer, who sold him what the buyer 
gave him to understand was wanted. A horse-dealer of 
any standing is just as eager to suit as the buyer is to be 
suited. No man in the world knows better than the dealer 
that confidence and square dealing are his principal stock 
in trade. — So the buyer goes to the dealer and says : 

" You misrepresented that horse to me. You must take 
him back." 

" No," replies the dealer, — or he ought to, — " I cannot 
furnish brains for the horse's mount. And since you put 
it on the ground that I deceived you knowingly, I will not 
take the horse back. It would be acknowledging that I 
had deceived you." 

In other words, again the buyer has gone the wrong way 
about it. If he had gone about it in the right way, truth- 
fully, ten to one the dealer would have fitted him out with 
a horse of his size — something he could pull and maul; 
in short, some old stager that would plod through a hunt 
as through a day's work at the plough. 

On the other hand, a horse that will answer for one 



8 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

hunting country may be nearly worthless in another. In 
the Genesee Valley, for instance, where there is plenty of 
steep hill work with many ravines as steep as a mansard 
roof, a fifteen and a half to fifteen-three horse is quite tall 
enough. For the level Meadowbrook country, where they 
follow the drag, which is only another name for steeple- 
chasing, the nearer the thoroughbred in size that can gallop 
and fly the fences, the better. Mr. Ellis, the Master there, 
says: "Take away speed from drag-hunting and there is 
little left worth going out for." 

In selecting a hunter I should rate desirable characteris- 
tics in the following order: (i) suitability; (2) pedigree; 
(3) disposition; (4) manners; (5) education; (6) looks. 

Some huntsmen may prefer to put more stress on looks. 
No one appreciates good looks in a hunter better than the 
writer, nor do I mean to say good looks are attained only 
at the expense of utility. Education and manners may be 
cultivated. Disposition may be improved. Pedigree and 
suitability are fixed. But the greatest of these is suitability. 

From another way of looking at it, buying horses is a 
good deal like selecting a wife. To impress upon the 
buyer the responsibility he takes upon himself and the risk 
he runs in buying a horse, it might be well to have some 
sort of marriage ceremony. The ceremony might be 
performed by a Presbyterian, because, for one thing, the 
buyer ought to endorse the good old doctrine of fore- 
ordination. 

The ceremony should at least contain the following 
form : " I, Richardson Gibson Doe, being a man free-born, 
of lawful age, and desirous of taking unto myself a partner 



Buying a Hunter 83 

for the chase, do hereby select the bay mare Thistle- 
whipper for my partner in hunting the wild fox. I do 
most solemnly promise and swear to take the said bay mare 
Thistlewhipper for better or for worse, through thick and 
thin, through sickness, accident, death, or the pink-eye. 
I do hereby solemnly promise and swear that I will provide 
the said bay mare Thistlewhipper with a good home, 
feed, and care, and at all times and under all circumstances 
treat her as I should wish her to treat me if I were a horse 
and she were my owner. So help me John Rogers." 

Here the buyer, in token of his sincerity, shall disengage 
his right hand from the mare's forelock and kiss the curry- 
comb or the brush, as he may elect. Then shall the buyer 
face the seller and say: **Let me pay." And the seller 
may say: " Let me offer you a glass of cider." 

Then shall the buyer hand to his stud-groom or coachman 
a gold ring, or the price of one, wherewith to ensure the 
mare from all accidents and disorders, barring blind stag- 
gers, until it is necessary that another should be bought. 
Here endeth the ceremony, and the buyer may now go 
forth and proclaim to all his friends what a great bargain 
he hath secured in the bay mare Thistlewhipper. 



VII 
SEAT 



"A chosen few 
Alone the sport enjoy, nor droop beneath 
Their pleasing toils." 

SOMERVILLE 




VII 
SEAT 

RIDING BY GRIP AND BALANCE GOOD AND BAD FORM HOW 

TO SIT A HORSE PROPERLY RIDING OVER 

JUMPS BY BALANCE 

[F the qualifications that go to make a good 
rider, seat is of fundamental importance. 
Hands, ease, grace, correct position, safety, 
horsemanship — all depend upon seat. When 
the seat is perfect, and only then, can these things be per- 
fect too. A rider need not expect to distinguish himself 
beyond his ability, good, bad, or indifferent, to sit his 
horse. 

The perfect seat is the one which gives a rider the best 
hold in the saddle, with the least fatigue. There are two 
styles of riding. One depends upon balance, and the other 

upon grip of knees and thighs, or of calves, to maintain 
equilibrium. 

Englishmen as a rule ride by grip, Americans by balance. 
The most graceful and finished riders are without question 
those who ride by balance. Some writers contend that 
the securest seat is a combination of grip and balance, but 
I fail to see the force of the argument. 

87 



88 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Riding-school masters — who in America are mostly 
Englishmen — teach the grip method, and it is owing to 
them that people are falling into English ways of riding in 
America, — especially in cities, — which is much to be 
deplored. Grip, however slight, robs the figure of that 
suppleness and elasticity of motion and grace of carriage 
that are characteristic of riding by balance. I regret to say 
that no one up to the present time has, to my knowledge, 
come forward outright to champion riding by balance. 
The tradition of riding by grip has probably been handed 
down to Englishmen from earliest history, and is only 
another of many customs that hang on long after they 
ought to be discarded. 

If there is any one thing about riding horseback that I 
feel more positive about than another, it is that riding by 
balance is the only correct way, the safest, the most secure, 
and the most graceful way to sit a horse. This will shock 
many of my English and not a few of my American 
riding-school friends who look upon themselves as good 
riders. But so far as sticking on a horse is concerned, 
their ability is lessened, as I shall attempt to show, by the 
very means which they believe gives them security. 

First let me call attention to the fact that there resides 
in every man a certain power or instinctive ability operat- 
ing under what is sometimes called the first law of nature, 
or the law of self-preservation. It acts usually indepen- 
dently of the mind, and its processes are much keener and 
quicker than merely mjCntal processes. When a man rises 
to walk, for instance, the act of rising is done with a more 
or less conscious mental effort. Once on his feet, he 



Seat 89 

walks on without further thought. Something in him 
takes his body in hand and keeps it upright and balanced 
without mental exertion. 

Now two thirds or rather more of the weight of a 
man's body is above the hips. He is really a more or less 
top-heavy animal. His base — that is, when he is walking 
or standing, his feet — is comparatively small; it is, too, 
smaller and farther below his centre of gravity when he is 
upright than when he is seated in a chair or in the saddle. 
When he walks his arms swing naturally at his side as an 
assistance to the maintenance of equilibrium. If he at- 
tempts to hold his hands against his sides — an action 
analogous to holding his legs against the saddle — it 
requires an effort of mind and destroys all ease and grace of 
body. I hold that it is no more essential to sit a horse 
by grip than it is to grip something with the hands when 
walking. One can as well learn to sit a horse by balance 
as to walk by balance. 

The sooner in life this is learned, the better. All writers 
advise one to begin young by riding bareback on a pony, 
and this is quite right, but not because it teaches to hold 
on by grip. The result is the very reverse : it teaches one 
to ride by balance, and will, if it is not spoiled by riding- 
school training later, produce a perfect seat. That Ameri- 
cans as a rule have most graceful seats is due to their riding 
by balance, in which they are mostly self-taught, beginning 
as farm-lads riding work-horses to and from pasture bare- 
backed. 

Only a short time ago I was discussing this question with 
a well-known rider of the Radnor Hunt, near Philadelphia. 



90 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

In answer to my advice to ride more by balance, he re- 
plied that his riding-school master had always told him 
what he most lacked was grip. His experience was only 
that of thousands who attempt to keep upright by grip, 
coming home after a ride to lie awake half the night with 
cramps and pains in their legs, the result of distinct and 
laboured effort throughout the ride. 

Compare riding, for a moment, with fencing. When one 
accomplished swordsman meets another, this is what happens: 
his mind directs him to place himself on guard before his 
opponent; but from the instant foil-play begins, mind and 
reason are a blank. The law of self-preservation takes en- 
tire control of the body, directing every action. The man 
who tries to fence or control his foil by dictates of mind is 
altogether too slow in self-defence. Reason is useful and 
necessary to teach position and proper form, but useless 
in a bout for honours. No man can become an accom- 
plished swordsman or boxer who does not give himself up 
to this law in self-defence. For the same reason, no one, I 
believe, can ever become a thoroughly accomplished rider 
who does not abandon all attempt to stick on by conscious 
and deliberate grip. 

The argument for the security of the seat by grip is 
weakened by the fact that thousands of men all over the 
United States are daily riding by balance. The self-taught 
ranchmen and cow-boys on the Western plains, the Ameri- 
can Indians, and hundreds of the best amateur riders all 
over the country ride by balance. 

I remember once complimenting a most finished rider 
on his seat. " Why, certainly I ride by balance," he re- 



Seat 91 

marked, as if no other way had ever occurred to him. 
" Would you have a person ride with one hand hanging on 
to the pommel of the saddle ? Gripping with both legs 
against the flaps of the saddle amounts to the same thing." 

Riding by however slight a grip has neither theory nor 
practical results to recommend it ; and it is passing strange 
that hardly a riding-school teacher and no writer that I 
have ever found sees the matter in this light. Whyte- 
Melville, in his " Riding Recollections," advocates a com- 
bination of grip and balance. To depend upon balance, 
he says, " is to come home with a dirty coat ; to cling wholly 
to grip is to court as much fatigue in a day as should serve 
for a week." On another page, however, he spoils his argu- 
ment by saying, apropos of grace, that " the loose and 
easy seat that serves to sway carelessly with every motion, 
yet can tighten itself by instinct to the compression of a 
vice, — the prettiest riders, as they say in Ireland, — are prob- 
ably the ones whom a kicker or a bush-jumper would find 
most difficult to dislodge." 

It is a pity to see the naturally secure and graceful seat 
of a self-taught American ruined by his going to riding- 
school. A person may be longer learning to sit a horse by 
balance than to hold on by grip, but if he gives himself up 
to riding by balance, which is only another way of saying 
gives his body up to the care of the law of self-preservation, 
he has eventually every advantage in point of security or 
safety of seat over the man who is holding on by conscious 
grip. When a person rides by balance, this law of self- 
preservation, many times quicker than thought, looks after 
him just as it does when he is on his feet and walking. 



92 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

The instant he is the least out of balance, a muscle con- 
tracts here or lengthens there, independently of mental 
effort, to put his body back on its centre. See two men 
riding at a fence, one by balance, one by grip. At the 
last instant the horse suddenly refuses. What happens.? 
The law of self-preservation keeps the one man in his seat, 
while the other, riding by an effort of the mind, instantly 
his grip is loosened, goes to grass. 

Should we never grip a horse with our legs ? Yes, cer- 
tainly — if the law of self-preservation dictates it. The 
trouble is, we are afraid in the beginning to trust ourselves 
to this law. 

My advice to a beginner is, if he is a boy, to begin 
riding bareback on a pony. If a man, he had better have 
the aid of a pair of stirrups and begin practising by riding 
at a walk, with his feet as free of the irons as possible. 
Let him keep at this until he can trust himself bareback 
on a quiet horse, and then, still at bareback, work away until 
he can sit a horse at a trot, a canter, and at last jumping 
over low obstacles. If he does enough of this he will come 
out a finished rider. It may seem slow and laborious, but 
it is the shortest cut to the attainment of a perfect seat. 
If a person is a bit rusty at riding, nothing is better for 
him than riding bareback for an hour, or, if this is not 
convenient, riding to covert, say, with the feet out of, or 
independently of, the stirrup-irons. 

While a self-taught rider then invariably rides by balance 
and is thus master of the one qualification that can make 
him perfect in all respects, he may yet have acquired bad 
form. For instance, he may ride with his elbows as high 




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ro 




Seat 93 

as his shoulders and present the ridiculous appearance of 
working his arms as if he were a flying-machine or a pin- 
ioned duck going through the motions of flight. Again, 
he may thrust his foot too far forward, as if bracing himself 
against the rush of the wind, or too far back, as if he were 
trying vainly to get upon his knees. He may slouch in 
the body too far forward, as if he were weak in the back, 
or he may sit so straight and stiflf as to suggest his being 
inspired with the idea that he is some great general about 
to be cast in bronze for a public park. By riding with too 
long stirrup-irons he may resemble a scarecrow in a corn-field, 
or by having them needlessly short suggest a monkey riding 
on a circus horse. Correct form is that which gives the figure 
the greatest ease and grace of carriage at the same time with 
the securest seat and least fatigue. Ease, graceful carriage, 
absence of fatigue, come from unconsciousness. The com- 
bination must be natural. Bad form with unconsciousness 
is better than a position which is forced or unnatural.* 

The easiest and most graceful position for the arms is 
with the elbows hanging naturally against the sides, the 
upper arm and the forearm at right angles to each other. 
The hands should nearly meet in front of the body just above 
the lap, and just high enough to clear the pommel of the 
saddle, held naturally with thumbs uppermost, and far 
enough in front of the body to permit free action of the 
wrists in taking and giving to the natural backward and 
forward oscillation of the bit when the horse is in motion. 

The length of stirrup-leathers is a question much dis- 
cussed. The straight leg — the forked or military seat — 

* See page 92. 



94 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

may be and probably is best for the most efficient hand- 
ling of a sabre, but no such position is necessary in riding 
across country. The requirements in the hunting-field are 
of another sort. For taking a fence the length of the 
stirrup-leathers should enable a rider standing in his stirrups 
just to clear the pommel easily with his crotch, — which 
may be necessary when the horse is in the act of jumping, 
— and to sit well back in his saddle as the horse makes 
the descent. The shifting of the centre of gravity of the 
rider's body, forward during the upward spring, and well 
back on the descent, cannot be accomplished with long 
stirrup-leathers. The military seat, with long stirrup- 
leathers, has no place in the hunting-field, where there is 
jumping to be done. We shall notice this more fully 
when we speak of riding by balance over fences. 

The best position of the legs, as of the arms, is that 
which is most natural and at the same time gives the 
stirrup-leathers length in which to altei a rider's position 
forward and backward in negotiating a jump. Shorter 
stirrup-leathers than this are useless, besides impairing the 
symmetry and ease of the rider. The best form for legs 
in cross-country riding is with the foot turned neither in 
nor out more than is perfectly natural, and the leg from 
the instep to the knee perpendicular to the ground. With 
the stirrup-leather of proper length, the hollow of the legs 
between knee and calf will then fit the horse's body at 
the fullest part. This position gives the rider's body the 
greatest amount of sitting surface, erect and well back on 
the saddle, which for hunting should be longer in the seat 
than for ordinary riding. (See illustration, page 92.) 



Seat 95 

I am persuaded that such a position, such form for arms, 
legs, and seat, together with entire dependence on balance, 
constitutes a way of riding at once the most natural and 
graceful and the most secure. I never yet have seen the 
man who, riding at all by grip, could sit down well into 
his saddle when his horse was at a canter. In this respect 
English riders are something shocking. At every stride 
of the horse they go clear of their saddles with from one 
to four inches of daylight between their saddles and them- 
selves. Except when a horse makes some extraordinary 
movement, a man who rides by balance never shows the 
least bit of daylight between himself and the leather. The 
grip man depends so much upon the pressure of his legs 
and puts so much of his weight upon his stirrups that the 
least jar elevates him — bump, bump, bump. 

There are doubtless many riders in England, many 
riding-school-taught riders in America and military-taught 
hunting men in other places, who are half or more than 
half converted to the idea of riding by balance, who often 
find themselves riding in this way despite all discipline to 
the contrary. As to sitting a horse by balance when jump- 
ing a fence, however, they shy at this or refuse to try it 
altogether. 

In the chapter on the conformation of the hunter, on 
the subject of shoulders, we had our say about centres of 
gravity and the necessity that the horse should be so built 
that in taking a fence the rider's centre of gravity should 
come as nearly as possible over that of the horse. With a 
horse so built and a rider so placed, riding by balance over 
a jump is not only a possible but, in my opinion, the only 



96 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

proper way to ride. It is the only natural way for both 
horse and rider. For the horse, the difference in taking 
over a fence a rider who keeps his equilibrium by balance 
and one who holds on by grip is so much in favour of 
balance that the grip theory is completely demolished. 

x^t page 96 we have an illustration of a rider who, 
riding by balance, is leaning well forward while his mount 
makes the ascent. A line drawn from the top of the 
rider's head to his horse's heels as they leave the ground 
follows the centre of gravity ; the equilibrium of the rider 
is maintained with ease ; also the weight on the horse's 
back is in a position to be lifted with the least possible 
expenditure of strength. 

At the same page is shown a rider taking a fence with his 
body held in position by a grip of the legs. With him the 
centre of gravity is far back of that of the horse ; and 
whereas the balance rider is lifted with the least possible 
exertion, the grip rider is, so to speak, elevated at arm's- 
length. In the one case the rider, sitting by balance and 
entirely independent of the reins, is in the only position 
where he can give to his mount the freedom of head which 
is absolutely essential to perfect performance. In the other 
case the rider, sitting by grip and, thanks to his rigid posi- 
tion, thrown forcibly backward as the horse springs, must 
depend on the reins for his support. 

Can any one imagine a more nearly perfect form, theo- 
retically and practically, for man and beast, than the bal- 
anced seat over a jump, or one more uncomfortable for the 
man or more difficult for the horse under his rider's weight 
than the rigid seat ? To those who think riding by balance 



Seat 97 

well enough on the level but impracticable for fencing, let 
me say it is more essential at this point than anywhere else. 

Let us hurry our two riders on over a fence and see 
them safely landed on the other side. Directly over the 
fence both riders assume, for an instant, the same position. 
This instant is the only one, however, between leaving the 
ground and landing again, where the rider by grip is riding 
his horse. Before that and after that, as we shall presently 
show, he is not riding but hanging on. As they begin the 
decline the man riding by balance gradually leans back 
until his centre of gravity pulls downward in a line drawn 
from his head through his body and the horse's fore legs. 
Can a better position be imagined for the comfort of the 
rider or for his safety ? Can any one place the weight of 
the rider in a position to be lowered to the ground with 
less exertion to the horse ? What of our grip rider, whose 
body still remains in the same rigid, unyielding position ? 
Can any one suggest anything he could do to make his posi- 
tion more uncomfortable for himself or his mount ? Look 
at page 98 and see our grip rider descending with his 
horse's head still in a vice. Could he place himself with 
hands and seat in better form to make his horse turn a 
somersault on landing? 

In the former case the horse alights and goes forward in 
the same smooth stride that he had on the level. In the 
latter, being thrown out of balance by the rider sitting out 
of balance, he has to put forth as much muscular exertion 
to land his rider as he had to lift him. It is not too much 
to estimate that the one horse can take a hundred and 
seventy-five pounds over a four-foot-six fence with less 



98 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

exertion than the other would need to carry over a hun- 
dred and twenty-five pounds. 

And whatever the difference may be in theory, it is even 
greater in practice. When we consider that by balance 
the horse himself must negotiate a fence, and how little a 
thing upsets even a man on his feet, the trial it must be to 
a horse to jump with a weight on his back all out of bal- 
ance from start to finish is apparent. The wonder is that 
one does not see half a dozen falls in the hunting-field 
where there is but one. Drag huntsmen will hardly 
appreciate this discourse on jumping, for they take their 
fences as they take their ditches, flying. But to men in 
timber countries it must be apparent, we repeat, that the 
only one way to ride a horse and do it properly is by 
balance. 

The crying need in riding-schools is some teaching of 
sitting a horse naturally. " Buffalo Bill's " exhibition in Eng- 
land was a revelation as far as seat was concerned. There 
is no country in the world where they do so much horse- 
back riding as in England, but nowhere can you find such 
bad seats. If you wish to see how not to ride, and a fine 
example of grip riding, pay a visit to Hyde Park. It is 
bump and co-chunk, with from four to six inches of day- 
light between their saddles and nineteen riders out of 
twenty, the horses cantering at that. Grip does it. 




u 



VIII 
HANDS 



LoFC. 



** Who tugged at his horse and held on to his head 
With hands like a vice as if loaded with lead. 
I saw at one glance that he was not the kind 
To blend with the horse both in body and mind." 

POEMS IN PINK 




VIII 

HANDS 

pullers: how they are made — proper position of hands — 
how to hold the reins hands when jumping 

I Y good " hands " is meant that sensitiveness 
of touch in the manipulation of the reins 
which pulls not an ounce more than is actu- 
ally needful. It is an axiom of the hunting- 
field that " Pulling hands make pulling horses," or " A 
dull hand makes a dull mouth." 

" I never pull at my horse's mouth," says a friend of 
mine, " but all my horses are pullers. I don't under- 
stand it." 

The trouble with my friend is that he is dull of touch. 
When he shakes hands with you he nearly crushes your 
bones, yet he is entirely unconscious of doing so. I have 
often remonstrated with him, but, I fear, to no purpose. 
Ladies shun him rather than endure the ordeal of a grip 
of his unfeeling paw. 

Touch is a question as much for horsemen as for 
pianists, and almost as difficult to attain in perfection 
by one as by the other. In horsemanship we can 
learn from the lady rider a most valuable lesson. Her 



I02 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

hand is acknowledged everywhere among hunting men as 
being Hghter and more sensitive of touch than a man's. 
Sensitiveness of touch is a gift, yet probably can be culti- 
vated and improved to some extent. More profit is to be 
derived from giving our attention to the causes — bad hands 
and pulling horses, which invariably "hunt in couples" — 
to which its lack is due. 

The most fruitful source of bad hands is an incorrect 
position in holding the reins. It is a point susceptible of 
the greatest improvement. The proper position of the 
arms and hands is illustrated at page 92 ; the wrong way 
at page 104. In the right way notice that the arm from 
the shoulder to the elbow is perpendicular, the forearm at 
right angles to the upper, and that the hands are well in the 
lap of the rider, so that there is no weight whatever on 
the reins. The wrist is pliable to every step or stride of 
the mount. The correct position has been attained. A 
glance at page 1 04, which illustrates the wrong way of hold- 
ing the reins, will show that with the elbows forward and 
the forearm in line with the reins or parallel to the direc- 
tion in which the horse is moving, the weight of the hands 
and arms rests against the horse's mouth. This weight, 
moreover, is increased in proportion as the elbow is held 
forward of the perpendicular. In holding the reins with 
the arms extended, one causes all the give and take of the 
reins to come from the shoulder. The whole arm instead 
of the wrist must be moved, or, as is usually the case, re- 
main rigid. This position of the hands is a constant dead 
weight against the horse's mouth. The rider is entirely 
unconscious of pulling the horse's mouth. He is not pull- 



Hands 103 

ing in the sense that he is making a distinct muscular 
effort to do so. But he invariably acquires the habit, when 
reaching his hands well forward, of resting the weight of 
his hands and arms on the horse's mouth. This irritates 
the horse, who either refuses to go up to his bit or begins 
to pull. A horse pulls, as does the rider, from one of two 
causes : either because his mouth has been so deadened or 
calloused as to be no longer sensitive, or because he is being 
pulled. The former comes from improper bitting and 
breaking ; the latter from the fact that beyond a certain 
pressure the harder he pulls the less pain he feels, the circu- 
lation being cut off and the nerves deadened. Thus it 
comes about that pulling hands make pulling horses. 

This question of hands is much better understood in 
England than in America. The English are as superior to 
the Americans in hands as the Americans are superior to 
the English in seat. In England you will everywhere see 
good hands — farm-lads, butchers' boys, cabmen. Good 
hands in England are the rule, while with us they are 
quite the exception. The great majority of horses in 
America have had their mouths injured or spoiled altogether 
by heavy, unyielding hands. 

The American and the English styles of holding the 
reins are illustrated at page 104. The American style is the 
result of copying the jockeys in driving trotting horses, a 
style of hands which may be well enough for track work 
but is manifestly wrong for ordinary riding or driving. 
The same sort of thing is noticeable in American har- 
nesses. Trotting horsemen use an overdraw-check in 
order to extend their horses' noses, for the purpose of giv- 



I04 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

ing them the greatest freedom in breathing by making a 
straighter air-passage from the nostrils to the lungs. This 
style of harness may enable a horse to do a mile in several 
seconds less time than he could accomplish it in if the har- 
ness had an ordinary bearing-rein, or even no check at all, 
and, so far as speed is concerned, the overdraw has its 
legitimate use. It has, however, like the jockey's style of 
holding the reins, become almost universal. You can 
hardly find in a harness-shop in America a breast-collar 
harness that has not the overdraw-check on the bridle. 
It is seen everywhere, among farmers and among livery- 
men, and from it Americans have copied a style of holding 
the reins that results in the worst possible position of the 
hands for ordinary riding and driving ; and the very best 
that could be adopted for making pullers. There is no 
room for doubt in the matter — the one great drawback 
to American horsemanship is bad hands ; the nation is in 
this respect just about as bad as it could be made : yet it is 
the one thing needed to make Americans the most finished 
riders in the world. 

And good as the English riders and drivers are in hands, 
the Irish horsemen take the prize from them. The Irish 
are simply perfection. They ride with a light Pelham bit, 
which is simply a curb-bit without a snaffle. It is a very 
severe bit, but with their masterly hands they leave it severely 
alone. By this same token I should think it an excellent 
thing for any one who wished to cultivate good hands to 
practise riding with curb-lines. The consciousness of 
the bit's being so severe would make one very careful how 
he took hold of it. A bit like this in a tender mouth 




I. Hands in driving, correct. 

3. Shortening girths while mounted. 



2. Incorrect. 

4. Twisting stirrup-leathers. 



Hands lo 



D 



would soon teach a man to let it alone. But of course, 
before he should attempt it, his seat should be so perfect as 
to be independent of the reins for support under all cir- 
cumstances. " Handle your reins," says one authority, 
"as if they were silk threads and liable to break." This 
is good advice, but it cannot very well be put into practice 
unless the hands are in their proper position, as illustrated 
at page 114, and if the seat is not perfect. If one 
wishes to demonstrate how much of a dead weight there is 
against a horse's mouth when the rider's elbows are ex- 
tended and the forearm is straight, let him attach a weight 
to a pair of reins and take hold of them with hands ex- 
tended, American style ; let him keep adding to the weight 
until the weight of his hands and arms is balanced, then 
take the reins in his one hand as illustrated by the Eng- 
lish style, and note the difference. 

It is very discouraging sometimes to undertake to make 
over a puller. When you begin to think you are making 
progress, something upsets your work and he gives you 
another day of it in spite of all that you can do. From a 
rusher over his fences and a puller between them, good 
Lord deliver us ! Such a horse not only tires his rider but 
exhausts himself to no purpose. We have shown in the 
chapter on horsemanship how essential it is to be on good 
terms with one's horse, but no one can possibly accomplish 
this when there is a fight going on all the time between 
himself and his mount. 

A horse pulls from two causes — dulness of feeling, or to 
ease pain. In the first case the chances of recovery are 
generally hopeless. When, however, the pulling begins 



io6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

after you have been riding a way and increases as you go 
on, you may know it is to relieve pain, and by that same 
sign that the fault is with yourself. In the first case there 
is little you can do except to drop the bit well down in a 
new place and make the best you can of the situation. In 
the latter case, as the fault is principally with your riding, 
it is simply a question of cultivating your hands. If it is a 
congenital want of sensitiveness of touch, I do not know of 
any help. If it comes, as it usually does, from a faulty 
position of the hands, the remedy is with yourself. 

The habit of pulling, in a great many cases, comes from 
a bad or improper seat when negotiating a jump. I have 
already called attention to this point in the chapter on 
"Seat." The reason a horse gets to pulling, or rushing 
his fences, — except in cases of funk on the part of horse 
or rider, — is that when a man sits rigid and is obliged 
to catch at the bridle-reins for support he punishes the 
horse's mouth so severely that the moment his feet touch 
the ground, away he rushes as if he had had as severe a jab 
with the spurs as he actually has had in the mouth. When 
a horse has been ridden over a few fences in this style, he 
associates that awful jab in the mouth with the act of 
jumping. He knows as he approaches a fence that there 
will be a pull at his head enough to extract a tooth, and 
he naturally rushes to get over the agony as quickly as pos- 
sible or refuses the jump altogether. Nor is this all. 
When he gets within eight or ten strides of his fence he 
goes at it with two or three times the amount of force 
required to clear the obstacle, all of which is only so much 
more energy consumed to no purpose. So matters go on 



Hands 107 

from bad to worse until the horse becomes a confirmed 
puller. 

I repeat, if you cannot sit a horse over timber without 
catching hold of his mouth to support your body, you can 
assure yourself that you are not qualified to ride a good 
horse across country to hounds, and that the fault is with 
your seat more than with your hands. I may be pardoned 
for repeating again that the most important of all things in 
cross-country riding is to give your horse perfect freedom 
and liberty of his head when negotiating a fence, especially 
timber. If you have so ridden him as in no way to 
hamper his movements, except so far as your weight is 
concerned, and he makes a mistake, it is not your fault. 
And do not deceive yourself: a horse knows enough to 

place the blame where it belongs. Mr. , one of the 

best English authorities, says that nine falls out of ten in 
the hunting-field are the fault of the rider, and I think he 
is not far astray in his reckoning. A friend of mine tells 
me : " You might say, what would be perfectly true, that 
nine men out of ten would fall off if deprived of their 
reins." 

It is said of the great Atherton Smith that when he 
came to a very bad jump, rather than have any question of 
whose fault it was, his or his horse's, if they went to grass, 
he would throw the reins down on the horse's neck and 
say: "Now, then, look out for yourself!" That is the 
principle on which one should strive to make every jump. 

I confess it is much easier to tell how all these things 
ought to be done than it is to do them. Perfect form in 
all respects in riding to hounds is rarely seen in one man. 



io8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

and I am conscious of not being an exception to the rule. 
One thing, however, is certain : if we know how it ought 
to be done, we can forever keep trying, for one never is too 
old to learn, 

I fancy some of my readers by this time are asking if I 
mean to say that a horse ridden with hands in the proper 
position will never pull. He may, of course ; but you at 
least know that so far as in you lies it is not your fault. 
He may pull for ambition's sake, or desire to go through 
timber faster than is safe, or faster over soft ground than 
you, husbanding his staying powers, care to have him. 
Perhaps he is inclined to be a little hot at his fences 
because he is more than half a funker. Then take him by 
the head as sharply as may be necessary, but the instant he 
answers your pull, let up. Never keep a dead pull against 
a horse's mouth. It is better to shift the bit from side to 
side. If you keep on pulling long enough you will deaden 
sensation and develope a real, not a temporary, puller. 
After all, how is a horse to associate slackening his pace 
with the slackening of your pull if you pull all the time? 
No horse is made a puller by being taken up short the 
instant he begins to take liberties. The steady dead pull 
on the flat, the jab in his mouth at his jump, are what do 
the mischief. 

I cannot agree with the notion prevalent among 
hunting men that hands are a gift, which, if a person is not 
born with it, he can never attain, however hard he may try. 
I grant this if it is a mere question of sensitiveness of touch, 
but not if it comes, as I believe it generally does come, 
from a faulty position of the hands. In contending this 



Hands 109 

point I may be pardoned for again making a personal 
allusion. 

When I began riding to hounds, with no qualifications 
whatever except seat, — which I had acquired riding farm- 
horses, colts, and an Indian pony bareback when I was quite 
young, — I soon discovered that every horse I rode to 
hounds took to pulling. I was indebted to Mr. Thomas 
Hitchcock, Jr., for my first lesson in holding the reins, 
which, needless to say, had been — in the beginning — after 
the usual American style. This was the sportsmanlike way 
in which he went about it. Instead of taking me to 
account personally, he read a lecture to one of his grooms 
one day in my presence on the shocking bad hands he had 
— which were, as a matter of fact, an exact reproduction of 
my own style of holding the reins. Mr. Hitchcock next 
showed him how to hold them properly, and gave the 
reasons. It was a lecture from the shoulder, and I remem- 
ber feeling rather sorry for the groom, until I remarked 
that he was taking it all in with something of a knowing 
smile on his face. That Mr. Hitchcock was never heard 
to correct a man in the presence of other people, and that 
the groom in question had been with him several years, 
came to my knowledge later; but the lesson had the desired 
efi^ect. It was my first lesson, and, as I look back upon it, 
I think the most important lesson I have ever had. I men- 
tion it to show that I have reason to know whereof I speak 
in comparing English and American styles of holding the 
reins. 

A year or so later a very practical demonstration of hands 
was given to me when I learned to drive four and tandem. 



iio Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

I had hastily bought a very wonderful "goer," which was 
driven to a railway-station for my inspection while the 
train stopped. Upon the completion of the purchase I sent 
my man for him, and he came into my yard, after his drive 
of fourteen miles, with the lines wound about his hands, 
and declaring he had pulled himself and the wagon every 
step of the way from Pearl Creek, that the traces had not 
been taut once, and that the "britchen" was tight nearly 
all the way. I had bought the horse for a tandem leader, 
but he was, as the groom said, an awful puller. Now it 
so happened that the order to the stables had been 
confused and the puller put in the lead. We started. 
Imagine our surprise when, instead of developing his usual 
pulling qualities as the distance increased, our puller-leader 
quit them altogether, and that before the end of the first 
drive. We kept him at it for a few weeks, and he never 
pulled after that in any harness. He proved to be the 
most perfect horse in the lead I ever drove. Since this 
episode the first thing I do with pullers or heavy-mouthed 
horses is to put them through this tandem school, and it 
has never failed to benefit them greatly and in most cases to 
produce a virtual cure. Many a horse that pulls when at 
the wheel will go beautifully in the lead. I do not hesi- 
tate to say there is nothing better for a heavy-mouthed 
horse than to be put in the lead tandem, and nothing better 
for a man with heavy hands than to practise tandem- 
driving. 

There is, further, in all this an important lesson ; namely, 
that in breaking colts to drive we should use long reins. 
Length of rein in riding certainly adds materially to the 



Hands 



III 



ease of handling the bit, though I should not go so far as 
to say, as many do, that ladies, by merely sitting farther back 
on their horses, and having correspondingly longer reins than 
men, owe to this alone the wonderful superiority of their 
hands over men's. We may discuss this point further 
under the chapter devoted to " The Lady Rider." 

In general, riding with loose or slack reins is not only 
bad form but is bad in theory and in practice. The reins 
should be so held as always to maintain a slight touch of 
the bit — no more if you can help it, and never any less. 
If a person is sensitive enough of touch and will allow his 
wrists to give and take to the oscillation of the horse's 
head motion, he will be able to keep on the bit that most 
desirable, even, steady pressure that best suits a horse and 
gives to the rider the invaluable distinction of possessing 
good hands. An excuse may be granted for riding a hard- 
mouthed horse with tight reins, but there is no excuse 
whatever for riding any horse with a slack rein. Slack- 
rein riding gets a horse into slovenly ways of going. By a 
continual touch upon the bit, however, a horse may be 
guided to the right or left by an almost imperceptible 
touch of the reins. 

Hands are never a less important point than they are in 
jumping. Turn a horse loose in a runway and observe how 
he handles his head in taking a jump. First he slackens his 
pace for the last stride or two, as do deer and cattle and 
dogs before they spring. Then he throws his head up 
instinctively with the lifting of his fore legs, higher than it 
is naturally carried, and after the obstacle is cleared, or 
while he is clearing it, brings his head down again and then 



112 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

up as his fore feet land. These motions of the head and 
neck must assist wonderfully in making the jumps, for they 
show, for one thing, that the horse uses this throw of the 
head and neck to assist him in preserving his balance. The 
necessity of giving a horse his head when he is jumping is 
obvious, and to be able to do this requires two things: 
first, a perfect seat, and second, a rider that sits his horse 
by balance. If the rider cannot take a fence with his 
horse without steadying the weight of his body against the 
horse's mouth, he may know by this sign that he comes 
short of the requirements. 

As a horse, when brought to his jump in a deliberate way, 
begins to lift his fore legs from the ground, all the rider 
has to do is to lean well forward and drop his hands until 
the reins are slack,* then lean back on the decline of the 
jump and take his horse well in hand as he strides away on 
the level. The great trouble with many of us is that we 
cannot let the reins alone, having the absurd idea that in 
some way we must assist our mount to rise or to land. The 
practice of catching hold of a horse's head by a pull on the 
reins as he begins to rise at a jump, with the idea of lifting 
him, is one of the most absurd notions that ever entered the 
mind of a cross-country rider. It is a practice that is alto- 
gether too common. Whyte-Melville, to quote again his 
valuable work "Riding Recollections," tells of a celebrated 
Yorkshireman who used to say : " Every horse is a hunter 
if you don't throw him down [at his jumps] with the bridle." 

I do not mean to say that every one who rides by balance 
can ride a horse through a stiff run in a rough timber 

* See page 96. 



Hands 113 

country and never need the friendly aid of a pull on the 
reins or a grip with the legs to assist him in keeping his 
balance. He will need them, certainly, but only as the law 
of self-preservation directs. There are a great many ifs in 
the way of attaining perfection in cross-country riding, be- 
cause the requirements of horse and rider are so various. 
Perfection is rarely found in either man or beast. We 
find horses that will stop if you slacken the reins as they are 
about to spring : they have so long been ridden over fences 
with the rider's weight on their mouths that when they 
are given their heads they think something has happened. 
Long custom has taught them to expect it, and if it does 
not come it is as likely as not to throw them out of gear, 
and the rider out of the saddle at the same time. What 
then ? Why, ride the horse as he wants to be ridden. 
That is horsemanship. 

The standard of excellence for horse and rider is so 
high, and, as I say, the requirements are so numerous, that 
no matter how great our experience has been, there will 
always be something to strive for, something to learn. This 
is the great charm of hunting ; it is a science within a 
science. If it were to be mastered quickly or easily the 
zest for it would not have persisted all these years. It is 
like billiards, or fencing : you never do so well at either 
but that you know you might have done better. 

Let not the novice be discouraged, however; the best 
that the best can do is to set before himself a standard of 
perfection, and work and delve and strive to attain it. The 
game is pursued with increasing interest only by the men 
who strive in this persistent way to master it. 



114 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

As to holding the reins in the hand or hands, there are 
numerous ways. Two of these ways, at least, are good, and 
both have strong advocates. The proper way of holding 
single and double reins is shown on the facing page. The 
way to carry the crop, and the way of changing reins from 
two hands to one are also shown. In handling the four 
reins in one hand the curb-reins are in the middle, the off or 
right-hand rein under the forefinger, the nigh or left-hand 
rein under the little finger. They are thus easily sorted, 
shortened, or lengthened. 




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IX 

JUMPING FENCES, DITCHES, AND WATER 



** But where was the gemman in pink 

Who swore at his tail we should look ? 
Not in the next parish, I think. 
For he never got over the brook." 

HUNTING SONG 




IX 
JUMPING FENCES, DITCHES, AND WATER 

THE RIDER HIS MANAGEMENT OF HIS HORSE SPEED AT 

TIMBER AND WATER 

'E have taken note of the schooling of the 
horse in going over fences ; we must now 
pay our attention to the rider, and to 
the ways in which, by proper management, 
he can help his mount. 

To begin with, a horse should be brought to his fences 
well in hand, with hocks well under him; for nothing is 
more certain than that the shorter the horse's stride when 
nearing the fence, the more power he can make use of in 
the spring. It is self-evident that if your horse is going at 
a fence full speed in an extended gallop, he will not have 
his hind legs under him long enough to use the contract 
force of his muscles to their greatest advantage ; his momen- » 
tum will be too great. (See page ii8.) 

*' Fast at water, slow at timber," is the rule; but I 
believe more horses go into than over water by too much 
speed. Besides, a horse at full stride will only occasion- 
ally reach the take-off bank just at the right spot. My 
experience is that the injunction to be fast at water needs 

117 



ii8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

qualifying. That more impetus is required to make a 
broad than a high jump, it is reasonable to suppose ; but a 
too long or a too fast start is as apt to defeat one's ends as 
going too slow is. If a horse has speed and impetus enough 
to carry him over say twenty feet of water, as no doubt he 
has when racing at it full speed, the trouble may be, never- 
theless, that although he has only to lift his feet and let 
the momentum do the rest, he feels that his muscular force 
has been spent in running. He has not enough left, or 
cannot collect what he has forcibly enough, and so refuses 
or drops aimlessly into the middle of the stream. If, on 
the contrary, he had but taken a shorter stride, he might 
have cleared it. Any one who has practised broad jump- 
ing will know exactly what I mean by this particular diffi- 
culty. There is such a thing as going back too far and 
coming at the water too fast when one could have done 
quite as well perhaps from a standstill. There must always 
be a reserve force in your horse for the spring. When a 
horse is brought up to within three or four strides of the 
obstacle, well in hand, he can better judge his distance, 
whether over a fence or across a bit of water. 

There is also at least one exception to the rule that one 
should go slow at timber ; when, namely, there is a ditch 
on the opposite side. 

In " Forty-five Years of Sport " James Henry Corballis 
says : " A horse can jump bigger and better when ridden at 
a moderate pace. I have trained many of my horses," he 
continues, " to jump so big from a stand that they couid 
accomplish fences which were impossible to fly ; and in a 
close, cramped country such training is most invaluable. 




' ^'■^^^^^'0f^M,..'y^ 



Fast at timber, too extended. 




Slow at timber, hoclcs well under. 



Jumping Fences, Ditches, and Water 119 

The late Mr. Leonard Morrogh, a well-known Master of 
the ' Ward,' trained most of his horses to jump the most 
ugly and impossible-looking fences from a stand, and thus 
even at the end of a long run his horses were, compara- 
tively speaking, fresh. I took a hint from Mr. Morrogh's 
system, and in like manner trained my own horses, and pro- 
duced many a slow-jumping ' wonder,' and in consequence 
saw the end of many a twenty-five-mile run." 

Nearly any horse, if he is given time to collect himself 
and is not distracted by whip and spur, will, if properly 
trained, know how best to take off and land safely. It is 
astonishing how easily a horse will negotiate a most diffi- 
cult jump if there is nothing to interfere with the free use 
of his legs, head, or neck, and if the weight on his back is 
properly adjusted. 

It is equally surprising what a little thing upsets him 
when he is deprived of any part of this freedom. If you 
doubt this, try a few jumps yourself naturally, and then 
unnaturally hampered in some way. You will find that 
the least deviation from the natural way is a very great 
handicap to your making either a high or a broad jump 
successfully. 



X 

SPURS 



'^ One spur in the head is worth a dozen in the heel." 

*' Pompous encumbrance ! A magnificence 
Useless, vexatious!" 

SOMERVILLE 




X 

SPURS 

THEIR USE AND ABUSE RELICS OF BARBARISM 

'NE spur in the head of either rider or mount 
is worth a dozen in the heels when chasing 
the fox. I confess I have a decided preju- 
dice against the use of spurs, except as an or- 
nament to a well-fitting boot. They have, I believe, done 
ten times as much harm as good. They are used a hun- 
dred times uselessly to once of real necessity. 

As a matter of fact it will be readily understood to fol- 
low from the system of training and schooling herein 
advised that the spur is a useless instrument. My idea, as 
I explained in the chapter on Schooling Hunters, is that 
nothing whatever should be done to flurry, distract, or 
annoy a horse in the act of jumping, much less to injure 
him, because he thus associates injury or annoyance with his 
jumps, and dreads them or refuses altogether. The more 
you spur or whip, the more you will have to. The prin- 
ciple is wrong and thoroughly inconsistent with the proper 
education of a hunter. The spur or the whip is a stimu- 
lant, and, like liquor, the more it is indulged in, the more 

the need of it is felt. A horse can be driven through a run 

123 



124 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

and made to jump with wicked rowels piercing his flanks, 
there is no doubt ; but this is not horsemanship : it is tor- 
ture. We should abhor the thought of thumb-screws or 
the lash to force a man to any dreaded task, but we do not 
hesitate, some of us, to rowel the sides of a horse until he is 
in a state bordering on frenzy. He jumps as a man would 
jump from a third-storey window with a fire behind him. 
Do we never stop to think of the state of mind a horse must 
be in who fears to jump a fence and hesitates until the 
terror of punishment overbalances even the dread he feels 
for the jump ? That his fear — in your mind — is ground- 
less does not lessen the terror in his own mind. Spurring 
or whipping would not lessen a child's fear of " the dark." 
Confidence learned by degrees, however, may. What horses 
need, too, is confidence, not spurs. What we need ourselves 
is confidence in ourselves, not stimulants. Confidence of 
horse and rider in themselves and in each other — any- 
thing you can do to promote this will make both parties to 
the partnership more proficient in cross-country work. 
Anything you do to your horse, and anything your horse 
does to you, whatever it may be, in whatever form it may 
be done, that tends to destroy this confidence, that much is 
being done toward defeating the end in view. At the har- 
row or in harness you may use a horse for the sole end in 
view, as you would a machine; but hunting, as I have said, 
is a partnership aflfair. The more intimate the association 
between rider and horse, the better must be the results. 

No one can estimate the difference between riding a 
horse to hounds whose heart is in the game and whose spur is 
therefore in his own head, and one who goes through the mo- 



spurs 125 

tlons like a slave, and has to be rowelled over the fences and 
quilted between them. That some men regard their horses 
as nothing more than machines on which to "get there" 
is apparent to any casual observer. The abuse of the spur 
in the hunting-field has left a bloody trail over the other- 
wise clean record of many a sportsman. I believe that 
spurs are wholly unnecessary to a hunter if they are never 
used to begin with. You may get a horse over a jump 
with them, but the after-effects are as bad as spurring your- 
self on with whisky. It is the abuse of both that I am 
speaking of. The actual necessity occurs probably once in 
fifty times, but from this once riders get into the habit of 
using them indiscriminately. If a horse will not go through 
a run without this tormenter working in his flanks, one 
may know he is not a true sportsman or has not had proper 
schooling, and had better go back to the trainer or be sent 
to the harrow where he belongs. 

"Shall I never wear spurs ? " I am asked. 

Yes, if you never use them. 

"But shall I never have occasion to use them?" 

I cannot prophesy for any one's future. I have ridden 
to hounds more or less for the past twenty years, and never 
used them since my first two or three seasons. A touch of 
the crop or cutting whip is quite enough. 

Custom seems to have dulled our sensitiveness to the 
inhumanity of spurs. If we stop to think, how horrible it 
is to see a comrade thrown over his horse's head, leaving a 
trail of blood on his horse's neck from the saddle to his ears ! 
Who has not turned aside rather than see the sharp rowels 
of a spur ploughing across the loins of a horse that has 



126 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

refused a fence ? Who has not felt more sorry for the 
horse than for the rider when both have fallen ? The side 
of the horse is marked with a great clot of blood. A hun- 
dred times the spur is used for the once that it ought to be, 
A hundred times it is used by accident or unintentionally for 
every occasion when it is necessary. How many times has 
one seen riders, in going through woods, stab their mounts 
in the side as their legs are bumped against trees or saplings, 
or again when they duck their heads to clear a limb ! Is 
it any wonder that some horses hate hunting, and cringe 
and shiver when the groom hands them over to the 
tormenter ? 

Many of us fail to appreciate what a gulf separates the 
horse who hunts with an incentive in his own head from the 
one who is driven on by pricks and stings. They are as 
wide apart as love and hate. Let me admonish you, my 
novice reader, whatever you do, take your mount into the 
game on equal footing with yourself. You may not always 
think alike. You must expect to be annoyed, discomforted, 
and perplexed. But keep this in mind : you are the part- 
ner, with your greater degree of intelligence, from whom 
must be expected the greater degree of forbearance. 
Superior horsemanship, let me repeat, is distinguished from 
inferior horsemanship by ability to adapt one's self to the 
horse. It is only novices or the uncultivated in horseman- 
ship who insist on making horses conform to their ways. 

" What ! " some one protests, " would you put yourself 
on a level with the brutes } " 

Precisely. It is impossible for " the brute " to move to 
your exalted state of intelligence. Seek, therefore, to 




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Spurs 127 

mould and fashion his actions to your way of thinking by 
association and by example. 

A horse learns by absorption, by companionship, not by 
reason ; and as his sense of intuition is many times keener 
than a man's, one will be surprised to notice how quick and 
clever he is at divining his rider's thoughts and wishes. 
The man's is the master mind, and if he is a genuine sports- 
man in all things he will in no way seek to take advantage 
of his less fortunate companion. A man is affected by the 
company he keeps. A horse is so affected, too, only a great 
deal more so, because intuition is the keenest of all his 
faculties. 

Let your greater strength of mind direct his greater 
strength of body. Place yourself in the attitude toward 
him that will best enable his keener instinct to acquire con- 
fidence in you. Thus he will learn to lean on you, respect 
you, consult your wishes, have faith in all you say and do. 
This once accomplished, every day's sport together only 
cements that indescribable bond of friendship which is yours 
for the cultivation, and makes a day to hounds one of the 
most enjoyable things in life. This sympathetic bond of 
friendship is what makes English riders the keenest cross- 
country men in the world, and it is itself easily explained 
by their natural love for animals. Without this compan- 
ionship between rider and mount in England fox-hunting 
would never have come to be what it is ; it is the very 
essence of the game. 

The spur is a relic of barbarism. Here is an ancient 
prescription for its effective use from " Records of the 
Chase " by Cecil. It is given as a quotation from a very 



128 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

old work on hunting, " believed to have been written by 
a son of Edward III in the fourteenth century " : 

FOR DEFY OF THE SPUR 

Take and shave him [the horse] the breadth of a saucer on both 
sides there as you will spur him ; then take a lancet and make six 
issues through the skin the length of a wheat corn, and then take 
a haundelere and raise the skin from the flesh and then put in a 
quantity of burned salt, and this will make the sides to wrankle, 
and keep him three days that he be not ridden and then set on him 
with spurs and spur him in that place ; and then at night wash that 
same place with urine & salt and nettles sodden therewith and 
this shall grieve him sore that he will never abide spurs after ; then 
take half a pint of honey and anoint his sides therewith three times 
and this shall make the hair to grow and make him whole for 
evermore. 

If you must wear spurs, wear them without rowels, and 
use them only as a last resort. If you find yourself, like 
most riders, using them unconsciously in the excitement of 
the chase, or accidentally when jumping, leave them at home. 
If your experience is at all like mine, you will say your 
horse is a far better, far bolder, far safer jumper without 
them than he was with them. 

They are necessary, in military riding, to make a horse 
dress, or go sidewise to the right or left ; but beyond this 
they are of little value even to the cavalryman. In flat 
races they simply contract a horse's stride, and have lost 
more races than they ever won. 



XI 
DRESS 



** Buckskin 's the only wear fit for the saddle; 

Hats for Hyde Park, but a cap for the chase; 
In tops of black leather let fishermen paddle. 
The calves of a fox-hunter white ones encase." 

"a word ere we start," egerton warburton 




XI 

DRESS 

THE ETIQUETTE OF THE HUNTING-FIELD THE OVER-DRESSED 

THE UNDER-DRESSED THE SWELL 

HE laws of dress for the hunting-field are 
governed by an unwritten code. When the 
hunting-coat is of pink, then white hunting- 
breeches, top-boots, and a silk hat are requisite. 
Otherwise a grey or dark melton, with or without tops, 
breeches of any suitable cloth, and a derby or square-crowned 
derby hat — but never the velvet cap, unless you are an 
officer or servant of the hunt — are necessary. Do not dress 
better than you ride. Over-dress marks the swell and the 
novice, and is decidedly vulgar. At the same time you 
should be thoroughly well dressed and especially well 
groomed, keeping rather to the practical and the utilitarian, 
as if you were out for business, not display. On the other 
hand, it is equally poor taste to go to the other extreme 
and ride in shirt-sleeves or without a hat. Such dress, or 
undress, may be suitable for road riding, for exercise, or for 
polo, but it is hardly showing proper respect to the Master 
to present yourself in such attire in the hunting-field, espe- 
cially when it is a regular meet. On a by-day a little more 

131 



132 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

liberty may be taken. You had better keep to the safe 
side, and always be well within the limits of what the Mas- 
ter, by his example, may prescribe. 

The hunting-coat should have elastics in the sleeves to 
shut out the wind. Wear a woollen shirt and a stock tie ; 
the wool absorbs perspiration and prevents discomfort. 

Pink is seldom worn in America, except at hunt balls. 

As no well-regulated family is quite complete without 
a black sheep, so no hunt club is quite complete without a 
swell; and to write a book on hunting and not include 
this interesting specimen would be a considerable omission. 
Here he comes now, fresh from his valet, who is likewise 
fresh from the tailor. You feel like betting ten to one the 
clothes he wears are not paid for; but no matter: he had to 
do it. In fact, it was the sight of the latest hunting fash- 
ion-plate that decided him to take to hunting. His appear- 
ance gives a deal of harmless amusement to the other 
members. He has choked himself with a stock, and wears 
a corset, or looks as if he did, in his wasp-waisted hunting- 
coat. He wears number seven patent-leather boots on a 
number eight foot. What an unhappy, uncomfortable 
person he looks ! How can he be otherwise with boots 
too small, coat too snug, stock too tight, and his horse a 
long-legged, light-waisted, three-cornered animal of the 
weedy thoroughbred order? Altogether he resembles a 
gaudy rider in the show-ring. He is, indeed, out to show 
off. After a good pull or two of jumping-powder from a 
gold-mounted flask, he is quite fit to make a spectacle 
of himself. He generally gets a damning from the 
Master, either mentally or orally, for riding too near 



Dress 133 

his hounds, and seems utterly regardless of any rule of 
hunting. 

" Hold hard, there ! " shouts the Master. ** Can't you see 
you are driving the hounds off their noses ? Hold hard, 
I say!" 

" I wish," he adds mentally, " you and all your kind 
would take yourselves out of the hunt, and stay out. You 
do not know the meaning of sport. You are a hindrance 
and a dead-weight in any hunting-field. For rocking-chair 
hunting at the club or as an ornament at the hunt ball you 
do very well, but as a hunting man, never ! " 

These, or words to this effect, every hunting man has 
heard the Master say until he knows them by heart. 



XII 

FALLS 



** Rouse ye, my bonny steed, neatly collecting 
All your strong quarters for a spring; 
Thoughts of the danger our senses inflicting. 

Life may depend upon your stride and your swing." 

RHYMES IN RED 




XII 
FALLS 

THE ART OF FALLING LEARNING TO FALL BAROMETER OF 

FEAR FALLS NOT THE HORSe's FAULT 

[HE art of falling may be considered as a 
necessary accomplishment in riding to hounds. 
Nothing will advance a novice further in the 
" noble science " than a few harmless falls. 
It is a singular thing that a man never begins to ride until 
he has been dumped over his horse's head. From that 
moment he becomes a rider, whereas before he was only a 
timid hanger-on, or so hampered by the dread of falling 
that he could not ride. He finds it is not half so bad as he 
had imagined. It benefits him in his hands and seat, and, 
indeed, in every way. 

There is a knack about falling, as there is about swimming. 
No one can tell a beginner how to fall : he must learn by 
experience. The great thing for the novice is to have had 
enough practice in riding to save him from losing his head, 
and then to get spilt often enough to acquire the necessary 
schooling. 

The first few times the novice goes to grass his mind 
becomes a blank ; his head literally is lost. The mo- 

137 



138 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

ment he finds himself going, fear takes such a hold upon 
him that he is in a state of catalepsy, and goes through the 
air and lands in a heap like a dead man. Even the law of 
self-preservation is gone. Contact with the earth, how- 
ever, brings him to himself. Some one catches his horse, 
and he gets up again, none the worse for wear. From that 
moment he is an altered man. So far from a course of falls 
making him more timid than ever, he has gained — sup- 
posing he is not altogether unacquainted with riding — a 
great increase of courage when they are done. He rides 
more easily, more gracefully. His coat, for a few times, 
may look of the earth earthy, his breeches of the grass 
grassy, but the dread and horror of being thrown are left 
behind. 

The learner's tuition by means of a series of falls follows 
a more or less regular course. After the first few tumbles 
he realises, with varying degrees of surprise or hardihood, 
that going to grass may be done in divers ways. When, 
for instance, having recovered from his first state of blank- 
ness, he goes again at his fences, he discovers that his horse 
has picked up the fear his rider left behind, and, thinking 
another fall is due, refuses to jump. Thereupon out of the 
saddle goes Novice once more ; he was not expecting to fall 
on the take-off side of the fence. " Good ! " comments 
the experienced spectator, inwardly. " Nothing better could 
have happened him." 

Again the horse is caught, and Novice mounts another 
time, with courage still rising. The horse, however, has 
been losing confidence, and feels that his insecurely seated 
rider is likely to give him another painful jab in the mouth 







o 






fciO 



o 
u 






Fall; 



^39 



by getting the reins mixed or by holding on by the curb 
instead of the snaffle ; but he is an old hand and does not 
lose his temper. For a few jumps everything goes beauti- 
fully. Novice feels as if his education were complete, and 
imagines himself startling a field of experienced horsemen 
with wonder, if not with envy, by his superior horseman- 
ship — sure sign that another cropper is in pickle for him. 
He grows careless. From riding with timidity, he begins 
now to keep company with recklessness. ** That 's well," 
says the experienced friend. " One extreme follows another. 
It 's a natural law." Novice is getting on beautifully. 
The next header will, in all probability, set him back 
where he belongs — about half-way between extreme tim- 
idity and extreme recklessness, at a place designated cau- 
tious-bold or bold-cautious on the cross-country rider's 
barometer, which may be marked in some such way as this : 

(i) Timid extreme; (2) fearful; (3) cautious; (4) cau- 
tious-bold. 

(4) Bold-cautious; (3) careless; (2) heedless; (i) reck- 
less or "daredevil" extreme. 

Presently comes Novice on a new horse. This was not 
wisdom, but he would have it. The animal, as it happens, 
has always been a bit hot at his fences, and, like most inex- 
perienced horses, jumps about as high again as is necessary 
over the first few obstacles. This, Novice is not prepared 
for, and just manages to scramble back into the saddle from 
the horse's neck, not without having lost one of his stirrup- 
irons. Novice catches his breath at the unexpected dis- 



140 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

placement, and his mount, feeling considerably above 
himself this morning, and taking alarm at this helter- 
skelter scramble on his back and neck, gets the bit in 
his teeth and rushes away with an idea that there is no 
one at home. Novice was warned by the groom, but he 
was riding at " heedless," and what the groom said did 
not count. 

The very first jump, however, sends him back to the 
"fearful" mark. Now that his mount is running with 
him, he wishes he had listened. But others are looking 
on, and he makes no sign. After a turn or two about 
the field, going at his own sweet will, his mount comes 
to hand. Novice has lost his hat in the meantime. 
He looks pale. He does not think so much of cross- 
country riding as he did. Somehow his enthusiasm for 
riding to hounds has nearly oozed out of him. Before 
this he has talked hunting to every one who would listen, 
read every author on the subject he could find by day, and 
dreamed about it by night. He has ordered a new hunt- 
ing-coat, boots, and breeches. But now he thinks he 
should prefer yachting. 

The groom, bringing him his cap, inquires : " Are n't the 
stirrups a bit long for you this morning, sir?" — a master 
stroke of tact. Novice assents as if he had known all the 
time what the matter was. Meantime there has been a 
little breathing-spell for the mount, which, having rid him- 
self of the surplus kinks in his back and legs, and feeling 
somewhat relieved of his supercharge of strength, is now the 
picture of docility. Novice nevertheless is trying to frame 
a plausible excuse for sending him to the stable, when some 



Falls i^i 

one says, " Try him again," and another, " You are not going 
in, are you ? " 

** Not much," repHes Novice, in a voice intended to con- 
vey a sense of composure and determination. 

There is no turning back now. He has burned the 
bridge behind him. So, with set features, he crams on his 
cap, takes a good hold of the reins, hardens his heart, and 
away he goes over. 

" Well done ! " 

** Good boy ! " 

**Try it again ! " 

"Beautifully jumped ! " 

" Perfect form ! " 

Exclamations of approval greet his half-dazed senses as 
he comes to a halt before the lookers-on. Now the hand 
on the barometer points at bold-cautious, and his spirits rise 
once more. He wishes he had ordered a pink instead of a 
grey melton for his hunting-coat. 

So far his jumping has been confined to timber hurdles 
between wings built up on a schooling-ground. Another 
jump or two he negotiates successfully. The colour returns 
to his face, which is now wreathed in smiles that he can no 
longer suppress for the tumult of joy going on within him. 
He proposes to try the bank and ditch, though his groom 
demurs. 

"Why not?" asks our bold rider. 

"Well, please yourself, sir. Only send him at it so as 
to clear the ditch." 

It is bad advice too well followed. With too long a 
start, the mount takes off too soon. Novice thinking he was 



142 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

going to put in another stride before he jumped. He is 
not prepared, is out of balance. His mount catches a 
knee on the bank, ploughs a hole through the top of it 
with his hind legs, and horse and rider are both in the 
ditch. 

"Nothing better could have happened," reiterates our 
experienced rider as he sees the mount racing for the barn 
and Novice brushing the soil from his clothes before he is 
fairly on his feet. " Don't give up defeated." 

"Not much," says Novice, with chattering teeth. 

" At it to within the last few strides," advises the expe- 
rienced friend, " and mind he does n't refuse with you at 
the last moment." 

It is timely advice again, for refuse he does, and Novice 
shuts up and opens like a jack-knife while going through 
the air. He lands, however, on all fours across the ditch, 
while his horse stands with his feet braced against the 
bottom of the bank. The law of self-preservation has 
stood by him, and he saves himself a bad jar, if nothing 
more, by landing on his hands and feet and scrambling on 
out of the way of his mount should he be turning a somer- 
sault after him. 

Novice's history is typical. During the first falls reason 
and instinct disappear. The ground comes up and hits one 
ill the face. The time between leaving the saddle and 
landing is a blank. Fear cuts off all the faculties. But 
after a few croppers without serious injury, fear has less 
hold. Self-preservation begins to work. One falls semi- 
intelligently, even retaining presence of mind enough to 
hold on to the reins and take them along over the horse's 



FalL 



143 



head in a neat and workmanlike manner. And when one 
can do this he knows how to fall. 

I doubt if any one can retain entire presence of mind 
throughout a fall. As we feel ourselves going, reason de- 
serts us. When we come to our senses again we find 
that a kind of second mind has acted in the interest of 
self-preservation, under the influence of which we have 
clung to the bridle-reins or scrambled the length of our- 
selves to get from beneath a possible somersault of the 
horse. 

Some say never part company with your horse until the 
last moment, when he is surely down. I cannot agree with 
this counsel. I believe it is the better part of valour and 
of horsemanship to part company with him the moment 
you feel that the chances are he is going down. Of course 
your horse may recover and you might have saved yourself 
the inconvenience of mounting again, but it is better by far 
to clear out while you have the power of self-preservation 
to go with you, and land on your hands and feet, than to be 
an instant too late and so be carried under your mount. 
You will go to grass oftener perhaps by adopting this plan, 
but it is better to throw yourself off than to wait until you 
are thrown off. No one can tell you how this is done; in- 
stinct only can direct. Ride by balance, give yourself up 
wholly to the law of self-preservation, and instinct will do 
the rest. 

It is safe to say not one fall in a thousand is accompanied 
by injury; and that the greater number of falls are the fault 
of the rider there can be no doubt. Nine times out of ten 
a horse goes down because he is thrown by the rider, either 



144 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

from the rider's being himself out of balance or throwing 
his horse out. Think, after all, what an easy thing it is to 
overbalance a person when he is not on both feet. A sud- 
den swerve of the rider's body sideways in mid-jump will 
be sure to land his horse with a fall or a scramble to regain 
his footing. Similarly a lurch of the rider's body back- 
ward at the take-off retards the action of the horse and 
makes him jump short, so that even if he clear the obstacle 
with his fore feet his hind legs are caught on the fence. 
Again, by an improper seat, if the rider's body lurches 
heavily forward as the mount lands, the horse is thrown on 
his head and a somersault is the result. On the other hand, 
when a horse is given perfect freedom of rein in clearing 
an obstacle, and his rider sits him by balance, a spill is well- 
nigh impossible. 



XIII 
COURAGE VS. FUNK 



*' At the fall of the year, when fair autumn is here 

And the glories of summer are iled. 
When the evenings are long and the breezes are strong. 

And the leaves in the covert lie dead — 
Then, then is it time to our saddles to climb. 

And in scarlet ourselves to adorn, 
To welcome our sport of the old-fashioned sort — 

To follow the hounds and the horn." 

AT THE FALL OF THE YEAR 




XIII 
COURAGE VS. FUNK 

TRUE AND FALSE NERVE CATALEPTIC RIDERS PREPARATION 

A CASE OF FUNK THAT REACHED COLLAPSE 

[OURAGE is a product of nerve. Nerve 
is the result of health. Health comes from 
good nutrition, and nutrition depends upon 
the stomach. The best way to produce cour- 
age is to cultivate good health. The best way to cultivate 
good health is to take plenty of exercise in the open air. 
The best way to accomplish this is to ride horseback. A 
torpid liver makes a mountain of an ant-hill ; a stout 
stomach makes an ant-hill of a mountain ; and no matter 
what the obstacle is, it is only what it looks to be. 

The one great thing in the way of a horse's education 
and of successful cross-country work is fear. The way to 
subdue fear in a horse is by confidence. The way to over- 
come fear in a rider is to keep the body in a healthy con- 
dition. Weak, shattered nerves are a fruitful source of 
fear in man, and a horse's natural timidity makes it easy to 
transmit fear to the horse. Anything the rider can do or 
not do to strengthen his nerves will likewise strengthen his 

courage and the horse's. If tobacco irritates his nerves, he 

147 



148 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

had better stop using it. If spirits excite them to a tension 
that leaves them more languid and unstrung than before, 
he may know by that sign that these things also are a 
hindrance. 



A run, sir, will please you far better than wine ; 
The farther you gallop, the better you '11 dine. 

It is a lamentable sight indeed to see a man with nerves 
so weak that he must needs get half drunk before he has 
nerve enough to ride to hounds. I am not going to preach, 
but simply to caution. Stimulants of any kind, — except 
exercise, fresh air, wholesome food, and sound sleep, — 
while they may produce a temporary effect, only make a 
man's nerves weaker than they were before. It is really a 
nauseating sight to see a man in the hunting-field ''getting 
his spirits up by putting spirits down," open confession as 
it is of weakness, fear, and funk. 

There are all degrees of courage. Bravery and courage 
have a common ancestry in nerve. Recklessness, heedless- 
ness, and daredevilry, on the contrary, are born of fool- 
hardiness, which is the utter absence of courage. Some 
men and more women, I believe, perform feats in the hunt- 
ing-field which pass for nerve or courage, but which, when 
we come to analyse them, we find due entirely to the 
absence of these qualities. There can certainly be no 
courage where no danger is felt or seen ; nerves that are 
insensible to pain are not nerves. 

That many men and women ride to hounds with cour- 
age and nerve in a sort of cataleptic state, there can be no 



Courage vs. Funk 149 

question. On the field of battle, it is said, men lose all 
sense of fear and do things that seem wonderfully brave and 
courageous, when the truth is that they have passed, for the 
time being, beyond the effects of fear or courage. Men 
frequently do things in an apparently cool and natural way 
while what we call nerve is — instead of being active — 
simply in abeyance. Women do many heroic things the 
very thought of which, when their nerve and courage 
return, is enough to make them faint. 

Some persons, especially nervous people, ride to hounds 
in a similar state, particularly when in the act of jumping. 
They send their horses at a fence " neck or nothing," and 
are regarded as brave and courageous, when the fact is they 
could not have taken it coolly if they had tried. In other 
words, it is a case of fear. The same is true of a cowardly 
horse. He rushes neck or nothing over his fences as he would 
rush a steam-roller. The rider rushes his fences as he 
would rush a crazy man firing a revolver at random. It 
is fear pure and simple, but it is often called courage. 
Horses and riders of this sort go into a trance ; that is, they 
sense the danger to a certain point, just as a soldier dreads 
and fears the bullets until the first round is over and he 
passes beyond fear. It is well known that a criminal 
who breaks down utterly at the thought of being hanged 
will, when the hour comes, walk out upon the scaffold with 
more composure than any person in sight. We call it 
courage in the face of death. It is neither, but a provision 
of a kind Providence to rob him, for the time, of all sense of 
fear. The really brave man, the truly courageous horse, is 
one who knows the danger, who realises as clearly and 



150 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

knows as distinctly what he is doing at the moment as he 
does afterward in looking back upon it. 

Hardly less important than presence of mind are fore- 
sight and preparation. A business man, or a person of 
sedentary habits, who found he did not enjoy last season's 
hunting until the very last few days, was probably unpre- 
pared for it. One ought really to begin a month or more 
before the season opens to condition one's self and fit one's 
self out. The sooner a person learns that this and strength 
of nerve alone enable him thoroughly to enjoy hunting, the 
longer and keener will be his pleasure. " There is no 
use," many men have said in the States, giving up hunting 
after a year or two, " in punishing and goading one's self 
into a pastime in which a man is tortured with fear." The 
trouble is that they go to the hunting-field with no prepa- 
ration beyond closing their offices and packing their kits. 
It is hardly any wonder that they go in fear and trembling, 
nerved only by friends and lookers-on. 

When you stop to think about it, you would not ask a 
horse to go through a day's hunting after he had been 
running about in a farm-yard all winter. It would be 
absurd. You have him taken up six or eight weeks at 
least before the opening of the season, and fed and groomed 
and exercised until he is as hard and fit as possible. In- 
deed, when you come to mount him you may find him so 
much above himself that your nerves begin to quake; you 
have to resort to stimulants. Even then, possibly, you ride 
him only a few miles and return home completely ex- 
hausted. A pack of hounds could not run far with no 
more physical exercise than you have had for the last eight 



Courage vs. Funk 151 

months. They could not catch a fox if he were " hoppled." 
Certainly not, you say; no one would dream of such a 
thing. Yet it is what many men do for themselves in 
their own cases. 

The season opens October i. By July i kennel work 
begins. It is walk, walk, walk, and trot, trot, trot, every 
day a little farther. Even the foxes have been bustled 
about for a month to make them give a good long chase. 
Your mount is fit. Everything and everybody is ready 
and thoroughly prepared for the chase, excepting you for 
whom all this preparation has been made, the one of all the 
group who should be as fit himself as is the horse he is 
going to ride or the hounds he expects to follow. 

Every season brings to the Genesee Valley and other 
hunt clubs a score or more of soft, nerve-sick men, who 
expect to begin riding to hounds the next day, without 
having lifted a finger toward conditioning themselves. 
Lamentable sights indeed they are to the natives and the 
conditioned men who come out to join them. We have 
seen them at covert-side, when waiting for the whip- 
per's-in cry of " Tally-o, gone away! " and the huntsman's 
rallying cheer " Edawick, Edawick ! " actually speechless and 
but little short of collapse. Their faces are as pale as 
ashes ; their supercharged horses only add to their unhap- 
piness. I remember one case in particular of a gentleman 

from Boston who was a guest, for the week, of a Mr. H , 

and who had that morning arrived, with only time to dress 
before the hour of the meet came round. His mount 
had been sent on ahead. The guest was a fine, large, 
upstanding man, a little on the corpulent side of life. He 



152 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

had ridden in the valley the year before, and, while he 
was not a " threshing scoundrel " of a rider, had acquitted 
himself fairly well. But this morning evidently his nerve 
was gone. He trembled so he could hardly get into the 
saddle. His host had mounted him on his old trustworthy 
Billy Claffy, as honest an old hunter as ever laid a foot to 
grass, whom nothing could make do wrong. He was as 
sober-going as a deacon passing the Sunday plate. Now it 
so happened Billy's rider and I came alongside of each 
other on the way to the covert. I spoke a few words to 
him, but he could not answer for a moment. Finally he 
faltered : *' I am going to fall off at the very first fence." 

"Nonsense!" said I, reassuringly. "With Billy Claffy 
you are as safe as if you were in a trundle-bed with your 
own mother to rock it." 

But, sure enough, in jumping over a three-rail fence on 
the way to the Hartman flats, off went the guest like a 
quarter of beef. Co-chug! he landed on the grass in a 
sitting posture, with one foot sticking through his new silk 
hat. It was about the most laughable sight I ever saw. 
The fall seemed to daze him for a moment ; then, recov- 
ering himself, he cried out : " Catch my horse ! Here, 
somebody I I say, there, catch my horse ! " 

Billy Claffy, all the while, was not the length of himself 
away, quietly eating grass. This was the end, so far as I 
ever knew, of this gentleman's riding. It was a case of 
funk that reached collapse, and all for want of a little 
preparation. 

In another field of sport we see similar cases every year 
in the woods of Maine and Canada. The typical city man 



Courage vs. Funk 153 

goes shooting, following, or trying to follow, a guide over 
rough ground, when he has not walked more than quarter 
or half of a mile a day for a year. When he comes home 
he has a fit of sickness and is more in need of a vacation 
than when he started. 

How shall you prepare yourself? First shut down a bit, 
if not altogether, on tobacco and liquors. Take one Turk- 
ish bath, or possibly two, a week, if you are carrying too 
much fat. Begin with Indian clubs or dumb-bells at 
home, if you cannot go regularly to a gymnasium, and work 
moderately, say for one hour, with frequent resting and 
afterward a cold spray before you go to bed. Repeat the 
exercise and shower next morning before dressing for the 
day. Increase the exercise until you can do two hours at 
night and at least one in the morning, and in addition walk 
to your office, or as much of the way as possible, and back 
again. For the reasons already given in the chapter on 
" Seat," in the passages speaking of riding by balance and of 
the law of self-preservation, fencing or boxing would in all 
probability be the best possible exercise for you. There is 
no indoor sport like fencing. It trains the nerves, quickens 
instinct, and developes every muscle in the body. There is 
nothing better suited to a man after his college days are 
over. 

Without this preparation, or something like it, your va- 
cation will end just where it should have begun. Fit your- 
self to be a suitable companion to your mount, and he will 
give you such a month of sport as will keep your blood 
tingling for a year to come. I cannot convey to you by 
any words the great gulf there is fixed between the man 



154 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

who goes to his vacation fit and the one who is not. Try 
both ways and see. A horse above himself with "over- 
fit*' and a man beneath himself with "under-fit" make 
about as unsociable a couple as ever come together in the 
hunting-field. 



XIV 
THE HOUND 



■ So model thou thy pack, if honour touch 
Thy gen'rous soul, and the world's just applause. 
But above all take heed, nor mix thy hounds 
Of difF'rent kinds; discordant sounds shall grate 
Thy ears offended, and a lagging line 
Of babbling curs disgrace thy broken pack." 

SOMERVILLE 




XIV 
THE HOUND 

STANDARD OF EXCELLENCE DRAFTING FOR FAULTS AMERICAN 

AND ENGLISH HOUNDS COMPARED 

HE foxhound has attained his present degree 
of perfection after two hundred years and 
more of the most careful selecting and breed- 
ing. It is owing to the persistent striving of 
English masters of hounds, generation after generation, to 
produce the highest standard of utility, combined with 
beauty and symmetry of form, colour, and markings, the 
nicest balancing of tongue and nose, and the utmost uni- 
formity in pace, that these and the dozen other qualities 
that go to make a perfect hound have been achieved. 
There is no animal in the world, not even the horse, that 
has had such attention paid to its breeding as the foxhound 
has had in England. Few families can show an unbroken 
pedigree of such length as may be traced in those of thou- 
sands of foxhounds, and, when it comes to breeding, equally 
few in the nation can produce such purity of blood 
and such an untarnished escutcheon as the foxhounds of 
the present day in England. Indeed, there is none in the 
whole list of domestic animals whose standard of excellence 

157 



158 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

can be compared with that of a hound. The foxhound is 
the only animal of which it cannot be said 



One genius will but one body fit ; 
So wide is art, so narrow human wit. 

In cattle and horses, as in all other domestic animals, one 
quality beyond symmetry and beauty is about all one breed 
can be asked to develope. Occasionally a zealous breeder 
will set up a claim that his breed of cattle is superior in 
two points of excellence, as, for instance, in both butter and 
milk, or in both beef qualities and in milk. Such animals, 
however, cannot compete with either the trained dairy or 
the trained beef breeds. Some breeder of sheep may set 
up a claim that his particular breed of sheep is superior for 
both wool and mutton. Such sheep, however, are in the 
one case always beaten at a sheep-shearing contest, and in 
the other, again, in competition with a mutton breed. 

To say of a horse that he is good for speed and draft 
means that he excels at neither. 

One breed of dogs may be noted for its beauty, another 
for its symmetry, another for its grace or uniformity in 
colour and markings. The English foxhound is the 
equal, if not the superior, of any family, however distin- 
guished in any one particular. As to endurance and muscu- 
lar development, nothing approaches him. The Duke 
of Rutland's champion stud-hound Belvoir Dexter mea- 
sures eight and a quarter inches around the forearm, and 
is muscled throughout in proportion. In general hunting 
ability a foxhound possesses the fling and drive of a pointer 
and the speed of a race-horse. He has the keenest of 
noses and the most musical of tongues. Indeed, there is 



The Hound 159 

not a single desirable quality to be imagined in a dog that 
he does not possess ; not a single attribute of an ideal 
hound for hunting hares, foxes, or deer that he has not had 
bred into him. Yet, wonderful as it is to find so many 
qualifications in a single animal, they are but the founda- 
tion of what an English breeder is satisfied with for his 
pack. A first-class pack of hounds consists, on an average, 
of fifty couples. Any man who has had experience in 
breeding pointers or setters knows what it means to grow 
a single pair of dogs that work properly together after 
birds ; what, then, must it mean to produce a hundred 
hounds "with but a single thought" ? 

For a description of an ideal English foxhound we can- 
not do better than call on Somerville as follows : 

His glossy skin, or yellow-pied, or blue, 

In lights or shades by nature's pencil drawn, 

Reflects the various tints; his ears and legs, 

Fleckt here and there, in gay enamell'd pride. 

Rivals the speckled pard; his rush-grown tail 

O'er his broad back bends in an ample arch; 

On shoulders clean, upright and firm he stands; 

His round cat-foot, straight hams, and wide-spread thighs, 

And his low-dropping chest, confess his speed. 

His strength, his wind, or on the steepy hill. 

Or far-extended plain. 

The following imperfections would draft a young hound, 
no matter what his other qualities might be : a coarse head; 
a head lacking in character; a short neck; a throaty neck; a 
slackness behind the shoulders ; a weak loin ; a stern set on too 
low or not properly carried ; a narrow chest ; legs lacking bone ; 
crooked legs; weak joints; large flat feet and long toes; de- 
fects of colour or markings ; a lack of general robustness. 



i6o Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Any one of these defects is almost certain to draft a hound 
without even a trial in the field. Passing the examination 
for these defects is like passing the masonic " first degree." 
Out of one hundred puppies that come in from their 
"walks " from thirty-five to forty per cent, are thus drafted, 
and of these first-draft youngsters some are killed at once. 
In doing this, to be sure, the huntsman or master may be 
destroying some of the best working hounds of the pack, 
or the best in breeding, and it takes a bit of courage to kill 
a fine upstanding youngster because he is badly formed in 
some essential. Occasionally a drafted hound of very 
superior breeding is given a chance of a field trial ; but he 
is half doomed to start with, and unless he should prove 
himself something above the average in field work, he 
would be the first to go in the second draft. 

It would seem that after hounds had passed such rigid 
examinations as the above they were entitled to admission 
without more ado. The hardest examination, the supreme 
test, however, is still to come. The first draft was by a 
standard of " Handsome is that perfect is." The second 
test is " Handsome is that handsome does," and elevates the 
candidate from a dog to a hound. The hound that is 
finally found good enough to become a member of this 
most aristocratic family must be : 

Not too tall or too short;* 

* Twenty-three or twenty-four inches is the standard. If a hound is over that 
he IS classed as a staghound and is in demand for packs that chase the stag or hunt 
the wild deer. If below that standard he finds his way into the harrier packs. 
The beagle hounds are still smaller than the harriers, and are used to hunt the hare 
on foot. They are nevertheless members of the foxhound family, the difference 
being principally in size. 



The Hound i6i 

(x) Neither too slow nor too fast ; 

Not too free in giving tongue. 

(x) He must not give too little ; a hound that runs mute 
is killed without further delay, and so is a confirmed 
babbler. 

He must not be a line hunter — one that insists on follow- 
ing with his nose the very track of the fox. 

(x) He must not be a skirter, or one that runs too wide 
and is content to let the other hounds do the hunting ; he 
must be a worker in every respect and not a hanger-on. 

He must have a melodious voice, neither too high nor 
too low; of such a pitch, that is, as makes no discord in the 
melody of the pack. 

(x) He must never tell a lie by giving tongue to a line 
until he is absolutely certain. 

(x) He must not take to running the scent or line of any 
other animal. A hound that is at all given to running riot 
has the death-warrant read to him, with little chance of 
a reprieve. 

A cross (x) in the above enumeration means that for a 
defect in that particular the sentence is death. Hounds that 
fail in this second test go out in what is called the second 
draft, and are usually sold for a nominal sum to form the 
nucleus of some foreign pack, or to some neighbouring pack 
which wishes to obtain good blood for a little money. 

By the time the second draft is completed, fifty per cent, 
of the year's crop of puppies have been weeded out. This 
does not take into account the distemper, a malady to 
which, of course, all are subject and of which many die. 

Next comes the third degree. The requirements are 



1 62 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

quite as rigid as in the first and second degrees. The 
hound must prove himself to be : 

Neither quarrelsome nor timid. 

Neither slovenly nor too fastidious. 

Neither a glutton nor a poor feeder. 

Neither sulky nor quick-tempered. 

Neither too meek nor disobedient. 

Having passed this critical test under the watchful eye of 
the kennel huntsman, who has little indulgence or in- 
clination to excuse, and being thus duly and truly prepared, 
the dog is permitted by the master to pass into the inner 
court, the holy of holies, as master workman, with the 
enviable distinction of being thereafter styled a thoroughly 
qualified foxhound. 

We have gone in some detail into this question of 
standard and of drafting for two reasons: first, to show the 
novice the almost priceless value of a hound ; and, second, 
to set an example that may elevate the standard of hound- 
breeding in America to the position it holds in England. 

In the States the rule is " Handsome is that handsome goes " ; 
and everything goes. Generally speaking, the hound is looked 
upon as a dog. To speak of a hound in England as a dog 
would offend quite as much as it would in America to call a 
well-bred dog a cur. Americans are very clever, as a rule, 
in '* catching on" to any new enterprise; but the art or sci- 
ence of breeding domestic animals for improvement is not, 
as a rule, one of their accomplishments. There are, how- 
ever, a few masters of hounds in Canada and the United 
States who have caught the spirit, the fascination, the great 
pleasure, there is in the art and science of breeding. Let 



The Hound 163 

us hope the ambition which Mr. Thomas Hitchcock, Jr., 
has for his pack of pure-bred American hounds at Aiken, 
South CaroHna, to mark out a Hne of improvement toward 
a higher standard, will meet with the unqualified success it 
deserves. It is a most sportsmanlike undertaking. The 
most he had to start with was a nose and a musical tongue. 

For the most part the so-called American hound is a sort 
of nondescript dog, without a standard. American hounds, 
which are all more or less of bloodhound extraction, are 
certainly very well adapted to hunting the hilly, rough 
country, the ploughed and sun-baked fields generally, of 
their native land. They are most methodical, painstaking, 
and plodding, and seldom fail, if they can follow the trail 
at all, to account for the fox. 

They are well enough, that is, so far as they go ; but 
fox-hunting is not simply the killing of a fox. A home- 
made snare, a rat-trap, or a bit of '*rough-on-rats" would 
do that much with far more ease and despatch. Whoever 
has ridden to a nondescript pack of hounds, in which 
absence of any kind of uniformity is the chief characteristic, 
and has afterward followed a pack of up-to-date foxhounds 
in England, will have marked such a contrast as will for- 
ever after prevent him from repeating what one so often 
hears in America: *' I don't care what a hound is like, as 
long as he can hunt ! " 

An erroneous notion is current among hunting men in 
America that in some way symmetry and beauty are antago- 
nistic to utility, and that the American hound is better, if 
anything, than the English. It must be admitted that there 
is some excuse, if no reason, for this belief. When Ameri- 



164 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

cans send abroad for hounds they are invariably selected 
from the fashionable racing packs of the great grass coun- 
tries. These hounds have symmetry and beauty and the 
speed of greyhounds, and for their own particular country 
are the best in the world. An American hound might well 
think himself nothing but a cur in such company, and 
would be left hopelessly behind in the second or third 
field. The trouble is that in the beautiful grass countries, 
with their prevailing moist climate, the scent of a fox lies 
so well that a hound with half a nose can follow it at full 
speed. Brought to the States and asked to follow a line 
over sun-parched fields and fallow land, he is more often at 
fault than an American hound ; yet the fault is not with the 
English hound, but with the locality from whence he came. 
There are many packs in England where far more suitable 
selections of hounds for America could be made than those 
which come from the grass countries. I mean such packs 
as hunt the more barren and hilly lands, in which conditions 
as to scent are similar to those of the States. 

Whatever is done, Americans should not be content 
longer with " Handsome is that handsome does." Let 
them preserve untarnished the sport of the game, and not 
lower the hunting part of it to the level of a rat-trap. 
If it is merely a question of getting across a lake, take a 
ferry. If it is a question of sport, take a sail-boat. You 
may need more time, but you have the satisfaction of doing 
the thing in a sportsmanlike way. 



XV 

HOUND BREEDING 



"See there, with countenance blithe. 
And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound 
Salutes thee, cowering; his wide-opening nose 
Upward he curls, and his large sloe-black eyes 
Melt in soft blandishments, and humble joy." 

SOMERVILLE 




XV 
HOUND BREEDING 

ORIGIN OF THE BREED DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY THE SKILL 

OF ENGLISH BREEDERS MATING AND BIRTH 

(HERE is much discussion among hound- 
fanciers as to the origin of the foxhound, 
historically speaking a new family, the result 
of cross-breeding, or out-crossing, from the 
bloodhound. All authorities agree that the bloodhound 
is the ancestor on one side. As to the other, opinions dif- 
fer. Most writers say the out-cross was with the South- 
ern hound, himself an offshoot of the bloodhound. There 
are many things about the present-day foxhound, as well 
as the bloodhound, that suggest the greyhound. Both 
the greyhound and the bloodhound, for instance, are known 
to be of ancient family. The characteristic of the one 
family is great speed; of the other, superior olfactory 
powers. The former pursues its game entirely by sight, 
the latter depends entirely upon scent. Originally hunting 
in England was done with hounds that had special indi- 
vidual propensities. Some were used to hunt in cover, 
while those that hunted by view were used in the opening. 
" The horn," says Cecil, in '' Records of the Chase," " was 
used indiscriminately to call them together." 

167 



1 68 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Probably the bloodhound and the greyhound were used 
together, each for the special work in which the other was 
deficient, as a stalwart blind man might carry a cripple 
who could see to guide him. It would therefore be a 
natural step, since one hound could hunt only by sight and 
the other only by scent, to cross them with a view to com- 
bining the superior ability of each. Another bit of evi- 
dence to be found in Cecil is the passage in which he says 
the dogs were " crooked-lean, coarse-haired, with heavy 
eyes and of a tan colour." This is the description neither of 
a greyhound nor of a bloodhound, but of some cross-bred 
animal of the two families, having the "crooked-lean" of 
the greyhound type, with the "heavy eyes" and "tan 
colour " of the bloodhound. But even if this evidence, 
and more of the same sort, were entirely lacking, there are 
most unmistakable traces in the English foxhound, as he 
stands to-day, of a strong dash of the greyhound as well as 
of the bloodhound ; compare the pictures opposite. 

The greyhound is described in a very old couplet which 
comes as near being a description of an English foxhound 
of to-day as would be a description of a contemporary 
bloodhound. The " neck Hke a drake's," " back like a 
beam," the great depth of chest, the shortness of the joints 
below the knees and hocks, not to mention speed, undoubt- 
edly are points common to the three species. English 
breeders have not only preserved in the foxhound certain 
distinguished features of the greyhound, but they have also 
developed in him certain characteristics of conformation 
peculiar to him and to no other family or race of dogs. It 
is sufficient to mention the wonderful increase of bone, the 




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Hound Breeding 169 

straightness of the fore legs, and the shape of the feet. 
They have succeeded also, as will be seen in the pictures 
of foxhounds in this volume, in preserving the head-car- 
riage and the neck of the greyhound, the latter as much 
smaller in proportion to the size of the foxhound's body 
as the legs, especially the fore legs, are enlarged. This, 
again, shows to what a wonderful degree of comeliness and 
utility these animals have attained. Altogether I reaffirm 
my belief that the English foxhound is the most wonderful 
example of the art of breeding for improvement anywhere 
to be observed. 

It is by no means easy to produce a new breed of domes- 
tic animals, even under the most favourable circumstances. 
We may cross two families of dairy cattle, or two families 
of beef cattle, or the thoroughbred with the standard horse, 
with a view to producing a new family; but it would be 
considered madness and a waste of time to attempt to form 
a new breed by crossing a thoroughbred with a clydesdale. 
In crossing families of similar tendencies, the first cross 
often produces a very useful animal ; after that what the 
two families have in common will be their original inferior- 
ity. The improvements developed in either family through 
fifty or a hundred or hundreds of years disappear. A 
clydesdale and a thoroughbred would not mix or blend any 
more than oil and water would. The greyhound-blood- 
hound cross must have been quite as rank an out-cross as a 
thoroughbred-clydesdale cross, and many times more difficult. 
The greyhound, entirely deficient in nose, and the blood- 
hound, depending on nothing else, — the slowest and the 
fastest, the loudest, deepest-mouthed, and the most silent, — 



lyo Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

it is impossible to imagine a greater gulf to bridge. Theo- 
retically it sounds most desirable; in practice it must have 
been the hardest task ever undertaken. How disappointing 
the results may have been all the v^ay dov^n the line we may 
never know, but that the English have fought it out is to their 
highest credit. I say " fought it out," but the battle indeed 
is not yet finished. It is not at all infrequent, even at the 
present day, to have a hound cast back with such marked 
characteristics of the greyhound in one case, or of the 
bloodhound in another, as to disqualify him as a foxhound 
entirely; nor are such examples of atavism uniform in cer- 
tain mothers, for puppies of the same litter often display 
the opposite characteristics of the original progenitors. 
One puppy is drafted for being too slow and painstaking, 
another for being unable to follow the line, another for 
being too free of tongue, and still another for being mute. 

Constant tendency to revert to one parent or the other 
of course makes all cross-bred breeding most difficult. Mr. 
Peas, in his excellent work ''Hunting Reminiscences," 
says it probably is within the mark to say that a Master 
who raises sixty or eighty couples of puppies thinks himself 
fortunate if out of the number there are ten or twenty 
couples that come up to the standard at which he aims ; 
and that out of this he can hope only now and again to 
find a couple fit to win at the Peterborough Hound Show. 

Some Americans — usually, I believe, the men who have 
tried and failed — scoff at what they call '* fancy breeding." 
The trouble is, they have failed almost entirely to grasp 
the nature of the problem. 

For the best stud-sires Americans have paid to English 



Hound Breeding 171 

breeders millions of dollars, simply for the thing so many of 
them scoff at — style and beauty. " Fancy breeding " in- 
deed ! Five thousand dollars are paid for a bull, ten 
thousand for a horse, when a bull of equal weight could 
be bought in the States for fifty dollars and for two 
hundred dollars a horse that could draw as large a load. 
A five-dollar dog could bark at a squirrel quite as well as 
one that cost five hundred dollars in England. The high 
prices are for style, symmetry, beauty. One may shout, 
"Handsome is that handsome does," until he is black in 
the face. Simple utility in anything is a matter of pennies. 
It costs dollars, and hundreds of them, to buy style and form 
and beauty. There is no use going to England for the 
best pack of hounds in that country if a man does not ap- 
preciate what it means and has cost to produce them. 
They would only deteriorate on his hands. England may 
be slow and behind the times in some respects, but in the 
art and science of breeding she is two hundred years ahead 
of America. In the last few centuries there have been 
developed in England half a dozen or more new and dis- 
tinct families of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, poultry, and 
dogs, while in the States there are only the standard bred 
trotter, produced more by accident than by design, and the 
*' American Dominion " hen, which latter, I am informed, is 
now well-nigh extinct. 

It may sound unpatriotic to say all this of one's own 
country, but the writer's great desire to see American 
breeders generally, and American masters of hounds in par- 
ticular, take hold of this question of breeding for improve- 
ment on a plane level with their intelligence must be his 



172 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

excuse. Any one can breed curs : only an artist can turn 
out hounds that year after year are more and more sym- 
metrical, beautiful, and fitted to the special purposes for 
which they are intended. I would hear no more of this 
" Handsome is that handsome does," but insist upon it that 
American hounds should be as perfect in build and beauty 
as their noses are true to the line. The beauty of hunting, 
what most captivates and keeps one at it, is the manner and 
style with which the hounds unravel the line. It is the 
neatness and despatch, the fling and drive with which they 
follow their game that one most enjoys, especially so if to 
all these good qualities there is added beauty — uniformity 
in size, colour, and markings. 

In the breeding of hounds the question of right mating 
is a very interesting one. Most masters take great pains 
and give special thought to the problem as to which of 
certain stud-hounds should be used on certain bitches. The 
question of pedigree has to be gone over carefully to avoid 
inbreeding. The faults of the bitch must be corrected 
in the selection of the sire. Forrester is a grand stamp of 
hound, with the best legs and feet, but he is lacking in 
freedom of tongue ; he is selected to be coupled with Mis- 
tress, who, although not a babbler, loves almost too well to 
hear the music of her own voice. Forrester cannot be 
used on Bluebells, because his sire, like hers, was, although 
not a skirter, in the habit of running wide. For Bluebells 
the best line hunter of the pack is selected to prevent the 
return in her descendants of the faults of her sire or grand- 
sire. Quickstep, although a model hound herself, was sired 
by a hound whose puppies turned out weak in the lower 




ri 
(U 






Hound Breeding 173 

joints. In order to stamp out that serious defect, Sampson, 
quite a faulty hound in some respects, is selected because in 
bone and straightness of legs he is nearly perfection. 
Brightlight cannot be coupled with Overton, who would 
suit her in every respect except that they both have rather 
large feet. Thus we might go on enumerating combina- 
tions without end. 

Then, aside from producing hounds with the straightest 
legs, the roundest cat-like feet, the deepest chests, the 
stoutest shoulders and loins, the best of tongues, and the 
greatest fling and drive, there must also of course be the most 
delicate noses. The most difficult problem of all is to breed 
hounds with size and at the same time with quality. The 
suggestions made in the chapter on breeding horses may 
be applied here with equal benefit. 

Enough has been said to show what it means to produce 
a perfect hound and to give an idea of the value and inter- 
est the Master and huntsman must have in every puppy 
considered good enough to come out in the yearly entry. 
I have lingered a bit on this subject in my anxiety to 
acquaint those unfamiliar with the life of a foxhound with 
something more concerning his history. I desire that 
when my supposititious novice finally comes out to hunt he 
may appreciate the animals he is riding after as well as the 
one that carries him, and somewhat share the Master's and 
huntsman's feelings in regard to what they call their " price- 
less beauties." Besides, it will add much to his interest in 
the game. 

Now let us hark back to the kennels. The whelping 
season is approaching. The bitches at this time require 



174 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

special care and attention. They are separated from the 
pack and put in special lying-in kennels, their diet changed 
somewhat with the view of diminishing fever and increas- 
ing the flow of milk. 

When now the third revolving moon appears 
With sharpen'd horns above the horizon's brink, 
Without Lucina's aid, expect thy hopes 
Are amply crown'd; short pangs produce to light 
The smoking litter, crawling, helpless, blind ; 
Nature their guide, they seek the pouting teat. 

The puppies are confined with their mothers in the ken- 
nels for a time, and later a wire netting gives them a small 
enclosure. In fact, they are treated very much like a brood 
of chickens. From four to six puppies is the average 
number in a litter. Their eyes open when they are about 
ten days old, and the small enclosure is eventually removed, 
giving the whelps the freedom of the lawn or paddock. 
It is a beautiful sight — forty or fifty fat, awkward puppies 
tumbling about on the green. This goes on for six or 
eight weeks, during which time they are taught to lap 
milk preparatory to being weaned. After weaning they 
live first on milk alone. Later they may find a bit of 
nicely cooked oatmeal in the bottom of the pan, to which 
presently is added a bit of cooked meat chopped fine. A 
little later still, meat is given to them raw. About this 
time, too, the huntsman goes out to call on farmers or 
others whom he thinks may take a puppy to walk. Be- 
fore a puppy is fit to wean, he is carefully tattooed or 
marked about his ears, and branded on his side, and a care- 




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Hound Breeding 17^ 

ful record is made of these brands, together with his colour, 
markings, and breeding. Soon after he is weaned some of 
the kennel servants, generally some superannuated member 
of the hunt, goes out with a load of puppies, to deliver 
them into the aprons of kindly disposed farmers' wives, 
who for the year to come adopt them into the circle of 
their domesticated household, to feed and chastise them and 
bring them up in the way they should go, A look at the 
puppy while at his walk shall be reserved for the follow- 
ing chapter. 



XVI 
THE HOUND PUPPY AT WALK 



**Then drink, puppy, drink; and let every puppy drink 
That is old enough to lap and to swallow; 

For he '11 grow into a hound; 

So we '11 pass the bottle round. 
And merrily we '11 whoop and we '11 holloa." 

OLD HUNTING SONG 

*'And then, after dinner we found him asleep 
In the bedroom up-stairs, where he lay in a heap 
On the bed, which he covered with patches of dirt, — 
His pillow we found was my latest new shirt." 

RHYMES IN RED 




XVI 
THE HOUND PUPPY AT WALK 

AN IMPORTANT EVENT MISCHIEVOUS PROPENSITIES KENNEL 

DISCIPLINE CUB-HUNTING 

HE walk is a very important part of the life of 
a foxhound. He does so much better when 
he has the range of a whole farm instead 
simply of the kennels, where distemper and 
other epidemics are sure to prevail, that it is regularly a 
part of his education. Of course he is a mischievous brat, 
and makes no end of trouble. The farmer usually con- 
siders it better to take a pair of hounds than one alone, for 
when they are chewing away at each other they do less 
harm than one of them would do chewing the farmer's 
sealskin hat or Mrs. Farmer's fur muff. 

The first year of a puppy's life, at walk under the indul- 
gent care of Mrs. Farmer or her daughter, he surely looks 
back upon as one of the most enjoyable periods of his 
eventful career. He has nothing to do but eat, grow, and 
be merry. A litter of pigs to play with in the barn-yard, 
poultry to chase, cats to worry, perhaps a small boy for a 
boon companion — he has little left to wish for in life. Of 
course he makes the farmer swear and Madame Farmer de- 

179 



i8o Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

clare she will never again allow another puppy on the 
place ; to which her spouse answers : " Yes, you will ; 
the huntsman will come here again next year, drink our 
cider, stay to dinner, compliment your coffee, and go away 
and send us another pair." Although the goodwife denies 
that she was caught by the huntsman's nice speeches, her 
husband strictly maintains his ground, and the question is 
dropped with, from her : " We shall see. This last puppy 
is the very worst one we ever had." But as she has been 
saying this for years, it is not considered worthy of a reply. 
The farmer and his wife seldom renew the question, but 
when a neighbour calls, the first topic is the new puppy. 
The poor woman declares that " everybody's life on the 
farm is made miserable by the mischievous brute," and then 
goes on to tell the latest tricks the scamp has played — how 
he stole a leg of mutton as they were sitting down to din- 
ner ; and again, one day when the presiding elder was there 
to dinner, ate up the custard pudding the girl had set in the 
summer kitchen to cool. "Steal? They are the most 
rascally set of thieves out of prison. Why, that puppy 
kills more chickens and goslings every year than all the 
skunks and foxes in the county ! The idea of growing up 
a foxhound to hunt foxes and preserve the poultry ! Steal ! 
Why, only the other day this puppy here came home lug- 
ging a neighbour's door-mat after him. And the butcher's 
wagon came along one day, and while the butcher was 
delivering a pound of sausages to the kitchen door the little 
whelp stole a whole ham out of his wagon. Served him 
right for gossiping with the hired girl. My land ! but he 
was mad ! My husband took him in and gave him a glass 



The Hound Puppy at Walk i8i 

of cider, and when he came to the door again that puppy 
came running up with a leg of mutton. * Look here,' says 
the butcher, * is that dog trained to empty my wagon for 
you r 

The farmer, too, has grievances. He has spent an hour 
cleaning his overcoat, spongeing the mud-stains off, and 
hanging it over the chair to dry while he gets ready for 
church; but when he comes to put it on it is nowhere to 
be found. He hears a noise in the yard, and there is the 
puppy dragging it through the mud, shaking and snarling at 
it as if he were breaking a fox. At such times the farmer 
is apt to think puppies destroy more straw hats than a 
whole litter is worth, not to mention boots, shoes, slippers, 
rubbers, and lap-robes. If anything from an almanac to a 
bedspread is missing in the house, if anything from a curry- 
comb to a horse-collar is missing from the barn, that puppy 
did it. It is impossible to keep the children clothed, for 
they will play with the puppies, whose teeth are as sharp 
as razors. "The puppies are an awful nuisance," the 
farmer ends; "but Mr. Master of Hounds is such a nice 
man ! He sends me a brace of partridges or something 
every year for Christmas. We came near winning the cup 
he offered last year, too, for the best-walked puppy. The 
huntsman — and he is a nice man, too — said if we had not 
kept the puppy quite so well we should have had the cup. 
Puppy was a little mite too fat, he said." 

But although the puppy makes the farmer swear, and sets 
everybody about the place by the ears, although the neigh- 
bours and the butcher threaten to kill him, he thrives 
under it all. He and the small boy who grow up together at 



1 82 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

least understand each other; and indeed all love him per- 
haps the better for the trouble he has given them. When, 
in the course of a year, say in April or May, the huntsman 
comes to take him up, everybody is sorry to see him go. 
This departure from the farm is another very important 
and trying time in the life of a foxhound. When the 
hounds arrive at the kennels, the master comes out to look 
them over, and this day drafts all those who show crooked 
legs, weak joints, coarse heads, throaty necks, weak loins, or 
any other blemishes. Again pedigrees and memoranda are 
consulted. Some doubtful puppies may have another trial 
on account of pedigree or a particular fondness the master 
may have had for the fathers or mothers. All the lucky 
ones are kennelled by themselves, and the indolent, happy- 
go-lucky days of puppyhood are at an end. The stern 
routine of the life of a foxhound has begun. A disconso- 
late set the puppies are at this time. Some refuse to eat 
until starvation finally drives them to it. Homesickness 
actually is so great in some that they pine and die of it. 
Some grow morose, and quarrel and fight and even kill each 
other. Such fights never fail to bring the huntsman to the 
door, and the ofi^enders feel the sting of his double thong in 
a way they will be a long time forgetting. Altogether 
their treatment now is a very different thing from what 
Mrs. Farmer used to give them. The poor brutes wish, 
no doubt, they had been drafted with the rubbish. With 
harsh words and continual correction, confined day and 
night in a small room, obliged to sleep on hard wooden 
benches — no wonder if they feel like felons. Once a day 
some one comes to the door and drafts them into the 




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The Hound Puppy at Walk 183 

feeding-room one at a time, calling each by name. Some 
one else is there to help a puppy remember what his or her 
name is. ** Barmaid, Barmaid, Barmaid ! " each time louder 
than before, cries the kennel-huntsman. The timid puppy 
starts, hesitates, runs back, gets a crack of the assistant's 
lash, and in she goes. 

After a week or so each dog-puppy is coupled to a 
thoroughly trained bitch, and vice versa, and they go out for 
a walk, the huntsman and whippers-in going with them on 
foot. In the course of these promenades they are taken 
through fields in which sheep are grazing. Any tendency 
on a puppy's part to chase these brings correction of the 
severest nature. In olden days, if a new-entry hound per- 
sisted at all in going after a flock of running sheep he was 
coupled with a stout ram and dragged about the fields, or 
had his taste for sheep butted out of him by a ram who 
would stand his ground. After a few weeks of this exercise 
and discipline, the coupling is removed, and the huntsman 
and whips go out mounted. This daily exercise increases 
in distance until time for cub-hunting. 

The life of a foxhound is generally from six to eight 
years, four or five seasons of work in the hunting-field 
usually finishing him. The master's heart is destined to be 
once more saddened when the time comes to dispose of his 
favourites because of infirmities or old age. Occasionally 
some favourite. Bluebells for instance, is given the freedom 
of the place, and hangs about the stables, spending her 
days basking in the sun or going with the master some- 
times when he takes a walk ; or again you may find her 
sleeping before the boiler-room fire, and by the notes that 



184 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

escape her musical tongue, the convulsive twitchings of her 
muscles, you know she is running a fox once more in her 
dreams. " Dear old Bluebells ! " says the master, looking 
fondly down on her, closing the door softly, so as not to 
disturb her, when he goes out. 

Cub-hunting is a particularly interesting period in the 
life of a foxhound. Many a promising puppy has finished 
his career with one or two trials. He may be a magnifi- 
cent hound in every way, but unable to control his tongue, 
or run mute, or skirt. The master is particularly anxious 
during these days as to how his new entry will turn out. 
Cub-hunting itself is most interesting to all lovers of hound- 
work. Its drawback is that, owing to the dry, hot weather 
in September, scent evaporates or disappears so early in the 
day that six in the morning is as late as it can be expected 
to be followed. This means being called at half-past four. 
To a real sporting man the reward for such early rising 
should be quite sufficient, although I confess to a very limited 
experience. 

By the first of September the youngsters have become 
quite proficient in road manners, and keep well clustered, 
besides showing great improvement in muscle. Plenty of 
road-walking has made their feet tough, but as yet they 
have never been blooded to the game they are to hunt. 
They have much to learn these cub-hunting days. The 
inexperienced puppy drops his head to the scent of a rab- 
bit, a squirrel, a skunk, or a coon, and away he goes, full of 
fire and drive. But the huntsman knows it is not a fox, 
for the old hounds have hunted the ground over and said 
nothing about it ; and Puppy is rebuked. Next a rabbit 



The Hound Puppy at Walk 185 

jumps up in front of him, and he takes after it like a shot. 
But the whipper-in takes after him, and " Ware rabbit ! 
Ware rabbit ! " he shouts, the thong of his hunting-crop 
sinking into the puppy's very flesh. Puppy, humihated, 
sneaks back to join his fellows, with a look of reproach at 
the huntsman. He was trying so hard to do his best ! 
The instinct for hunting has been bred in him for the last 
two hundred years, and now when he is brought into the 
woods he is flogged unmercifully. He sulks along while 
the cut smarts, but presently a reliable hound hits off the 
line. 

"Hark to Pedro! Hark to Pedro! On, Barman ! On, 
my beauty ! " 

Thus addressed by the cheery cry of the huntsman, 
Puppy's spirit revives. He joins the others, gets a whiff of 
the fox's line, and away goes his tongue in a joyous shout 
as he drives at it with might and main. 

Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail 
Flourish'd in air, low-bending plies around 
His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuffs 
Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried, 
Till, conscious of the recent stains, his heart 
Beats quick ; his snuffling nose, his active tail. 
Attest his joy ; then with deep-opening mouth. 
That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims 
Th' audacious felon ; foot by foot he marks 
His winding way, while all the list'ning crowd 
Applaud his reas'nings. 

On the outside another young entry catches the stronger 
line of a rabbit, and goes after it with clamourous tongue, 



1 86 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

taking three or four youngsters with him. But he has 
not gone a rod before crack ! crack ! goes the whipper-in's 
crop, Hke the report of a gun, straight at the false leader's 
side. " Ware rabbit, Puppy ! Ware rabbit ! " A few strides 
of the spur-pricked mount places the whipper-in in posi- 
tion to head the puppies off, and the tooting horn of the 
huntsman calls them back to the line of the hunted fox. 

So the day is spent breaking in the new entry, permitting 
them to kill two or three cubs, to get the young hounds 
well blooded. But this is only half the object of cub- 
hunting. The young foxes need educating as well as the 
hounds. The first covert drawn is one where there is sure 
to be a litter, and one object, so far as the young foxes are 
concerned, is to bustle them about, so that when the regular 
season opens and they hear hounds coming, they will break 
covert quickly. No sportsman likes to hear of hounds 
" chopping " a fox in covert. They desire to give him 
plenty of law, a very generous start, and then catch him if 
they can. It is not sport to take game at a disadvantage. 
To the genuine sportsman it is something shocking to see 
a man hunting rabbits with a ferret. The ferret is sent into 
the burrow, out bolts the rabbit, and the gunner with a shot- 
gun at the mouth of the hole blows the top of bunny's head 
off. Or he gets some blank cartridges and a hundred feet 
of fuse, fastens the fuse to a cartridge, and with a piece of 
wire rams the cartridge in a burrow. Bang! goes the 
cartridge, and out bolts the rabbit or fox to certain death. 
Shame on the men who call this sport ! They are not 
sportsmen, but butchers. Sportsmen of this calibre ought 
to go home, rope an ox, draw him on the barn fioor, and 




-a 



JO 






Oh 



CQ 



The Hound Puppy at Walk 187 

knock him on the head with an axe. It would be the 
same kind of thing. " Was the bird flying from you, or 
across or toward you, when you hit it?" asks the father of 
his son who comes running to him with his first partridge. 
*' He was sitting on the ground," repUes the delighted boy. 
" Sitting on the ground ! " roars his father. " Sitting on 
the ground ! Never let me hear of your doing such an 
unsportsmanlike thing again. Always give the bird a 
chance, my boy. If he does n't get up, frighten him up. 
Then, if you are clever enough to drop him, there is some 
credit in the shot." Such should be one of any boy's first 
lessons. But a great deal of this butcher business goes on 
in America, for one reason or another. A man is not sat- 
isfied to catch fish by the skilful throwing of a fly, but must 
buy a net or explode a charge of dynamite in the bottom 
of the pool, and pick up the murdered fish as they float to 
the surface. And they call this sport! 

But ware fish, author, ware fish ! and get on with your 
fox. As I was saying, no fox-hunter likes mobbing a fox in 
covert, and so it is necessary to give the youngsters a lesson 
in breaking away. They start one fox out, give him a 
good scare with hounds after him, and when he is well out 
of covert they call off the hounds to bustle out some more. 

No one has better described cub-hunting than Somer- 
ville in *'The Chase," that epic of the hunt from which 
we have already borrowed more than once to enrich our 
own pictures : 

Easy the lessons of the youthful train 

When instinct prompts and when example guides. 

If the too forward younker, at the head. 



88 



Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Press boldly on, in wanton, sportive mood. 
Correct his haste, and let him feel, abash'd. 
The ruling whip. But if he stoop behind, 
In wary modest guise, to his own nose 
Confiding sure, give him full scope to work 
His winding way, and with thy voice applaud 
His patience and his care ; soon shalt thou view 
The hopeful pupil leader of his tribe. 
While all the listening pack attend his call. 



XVII 
THE FOX 



" The wily fox. 
Safe in the increasing number of his foes. 
Kens well the great advantage; shrinks behind. 
And slily creeps through the same beaten track, 
And hunts them step by step; then views, escaped. 
With inward ecstasy, the panting throng 
In their own footsteps puzzled, foiled, and lost." 

SOMERVILLE 




XVII 
THE FOX 

THE FOX COMPARED WITH OTHER GAME HUNTING THE WILD 

RED DEER A PATHETIC END RENARD's CRAFTY NATURE 

HE drag is but a mimicry of hunting, the crated 
stag is but little better, the bag-fox an abomi- 
nation savouring too much of the butcher. 

Hare and otter-hunting are good, clean 

sport. The hunting of the wild red deer in Devon and 
of the wild stag and the wild boar in France are thoroughly 
honourable and sportsmanlike. The woodcraft of the har- 
bourer, the rare skill of the huntsman in singling out a 
warrantable stag or hind, are a display of natural wit and 
cunning beautiful to see. It is a glorious thing, riding to 
staghounds, to note the wonderful instinct of the huntsman 
in Ufting them smartly on to the line when they are at 
fault. But for every-day hunting there is nothing that 
quite comes up to the chase of the wild fox. 

There is never, in the chase after Renard, the feeling 
that you are pursuing to its death a harmless and innocent 
creature. The fox is a vagabond. If he was not at work 
steaHng your chickens last night, it was because he was steal- 
ing your neighbour's, or came across a rabbit that diverted 

191 



192 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

him on the way to your coop. There is something of 
retribution in his being killed. On the other hand, I shall 
never recall without a shudder the death of the first hind 
I saw taken by the Devon and Somerset staghounds. 

She had given us a glorious run of fourteen or fifteen 
miles to Bristol Channel, to which waters her instinct had 
led her as the best way of escape from her pursuers. When 
we arrived on the coast, at the point where the hind 
had jumped over a steep precipice and taken to the sea, there 
was a heavy fog resting on the waters, and the chase 
seemed ended. 

Presently, however, the fog lifted, and there, standing on 
a rock a quarter of a mile or more to sea, was the hind, 
the most beautiful picture I ever beheld. Over her hung 
a canopy of mist; the surf of an incoming tide was break- 
ing into the whitest foam at her feet. Steadily the tide 
crept up on the rock where she stood, every succeeding 
breaker increasing the depth of water about her. There 
she stood like a stranded mariner, awaiting the death that 
must ultimately overtake her. She began to look long- 
ingly toward the shore and the frowning peaks of the 
Quantock Hills, her home, to which she was never to 
return. For a time her attention was called to the passing 
of a ship not a quarter of a mile from where she stood, 
curiosity for a moment absorbing her as she watched it 
with forgetful interest. What a picture! More than an 
hour we waited and watched, during which time the 
hounds were taken out of sight. It was hoped she would 
come to shore and make for the hills; but still she lingered, 
with the incoming tide rising all about her, and huntsmen 



The Fox 193 

waiting for her on the banks. Now the waves reached 
her body, and she looked startled and seemed to read her 
doom in every succeeding billow. She made a move irreso- 
lutely toward the shore, halted, and moved again. Care- 
fully she felt her way down the slippery rock till finally the 
sea closed over her back and she could be descried swim- 
ming for shore. Reaching the beach, she walked out again 
a bit to free herself from the breakers, and rested there for 
ten or fifteen minutes longer. The huntsmen meanwhile, 
with five or six couples of the most trusty hounds, went 
down to the water some distance above her, with a view to 
getting between her and the sea. She saw them coming, 
but the cold March wind had evidently chilled her to the 
marrow ; she moved with stiffened gait along the shore 
until she came to a great boulder, behind which she stole 
cautiously, and lay down in a pool of water left by the last 
tide in a hollow of the rocks. A moment later the hounds 
hit off her trail, and in another instant the lot of them were 
upon her. 

To me, unaccustomed as I was, it gave a sickening feel- 
ing, despite its novelty and interest. I can best express 
myself in the characteristic language of an American girl 
after her first ride down the great toboggan slide at Mon- 
treal. "'I would n't have missed it for a thousand dollars," 
she said, " but I would n't go through it again for two thou- 
sand." Perhaps there is nothing like getting used to a 
thing; perhaps if I hunted year after year with these 
famous hounds I should become hardened to such specta- 
cles; perhaps the wild red deer, killed by these hounds to 
the number of one hundred every season, become at last. 



194 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

like the old lady's eels, accustomed to being skinned. But 
I have had several days with these hounds since that first 
one, and somehow I doubt it. 

Let us hark back to our fox, that cunning, evasive thief 
of the night. Any one can see him broken with little 
feeling of compassion, knowing that the untimely death of 
Mrs. Farmer's goslings has been avenged. As he hunts 
the hare and the rabbit, he has no reason to complain if he 
is hunted too. What is more, he is not a good sportsman. 
He pounces upon his prey by stealth, while for him hounds 
are kept back to give him a good start, and the music of 
their cries, the shouts of the huntsmen, the clatter of the 
galloping steeds, all leave him less and less excuse to say that 
he has not been fairly dealt with. He usually gets away on 
an even footing, and has about even chances of saving his 
brush for another day. There are, indeed, always a few old 
ringers in every hunt country that seem to welcome the 
coming of the clamourous pack as if it were a game of 
hide-and-seek or blindman's-buff. But most of them are 
sly. When you see one sneaking along a fence after play- 
ing a clever trick on the hounds, you have an eager desire to 
run the rascal down. No, there is an indescribable some- 
thing about the pursuit of a fox that fires the blood of a 
hunting man as does that of no other game. Shooting 
partridge, quail, or pheasants over a couple of well-trained 
pointers is very keen sport, I allow. Wild-turkey shooting 
in Michigan, going after wild ducks and geese in New 
Brunswick, stalking deer in Maine or caribou and moose in 
Nova Scotia, are most thrilling. But none of these animals 
make you want to get at them so badly, or rather I might 




u 



CQ 









O 
bX) 



t-^ 



The Fox 195 

better say so madly, as the fox. Every hunting man feels 
this, but words to express the feeling fully are yet to be 
invented. Some men who are as steady as a church at 
bird or big game shooting fairly lose themselves at the 
sight of a travelling fox. There is something about his 
stealthy way of going, as if he were a thief, something 
about his whole carriage, that proclaims the rogue and 
makes men shout themselves hoarse and ache to throw 
their hunting-crops or hats at him. They will ride their 
best hunter nearly to death to keep in sight of him. All 
this, however, is lost with a bag-fox; and, as some one has 
pointed out, none of it at all would arise at the sight of a 
fox chained to a stake in some one's yard. But directly 
hounds give tongue in a genuine hunt, your spirits are up 
and your interest grows apace in the game. For every 
card the rascal plays you know, so to speak, he has still an 
ace or a king up his sleeve. A glimpse is had of the sly 
little devil as he moves along in a furrow, casting his eyes 
behind him with the cold, calculating glance of a money- 
lender. ** There he goes, damn him ! " cries the deacon of 
the First Baptist Church, who was never known to swear 
before, — and did not know he did then, — as he puts spurs 
to his horse and races after as if he were running down a 
desperado. 

It is undoubtedly true that the greatest zeal for fox- 
hunting, as in other kinds of hunting, comes from a 
knowledge of the animal hunted, and is increased by a 
study of his ways. It always seems to me that nien who 
hunt to ride miss this point and the spirit of the chase al- 
together. Their pleasure consists in outriding the field. 



196 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

and if they fail in this they go home disappointed. Not 
so the hunting man. His heart is in the game. Those 
who hunt to ride may as well follow a drag or ride a 
steeplechase. The hunting man has all this pleasure, and 
the enjoyment of the hunting as well. Pardon my recur- 
ring so often to this point. I am only anxious to give the 
novice a start right, which is not likely to be the case unless 
he is quite familiar with the game. It will not be amiss, 
therefore, to devote a little more space in the next chapter 
to " The Fox and his Ways.'* 



XVIII 
THE FOX AND HIS WAYS 



•' The farmer, who beholds his mortal foe 
Stretch'd at his feet, applauds the glorious deed. 
And, grateful, calls us to a short repast: 
In the full glass the liquid amber smiles. 
Our native product; and his good old mate 
With choicest viands heaps the liberal board." 

SOMERVILLE 




XVIII 
THE FOX AND HIS WAYS 

BREEDING SEASON FIRST LESSONS IN CRAFT CUNNING WHAT 

THE EARTH-STOPPER SAYS WHAT THE FARMER 

AND HIS WIFE SAY 

IHE fox's mating season in America varies 
somewhat according to latitude. January is 
in most regions the month for courting. In 
these days the dog-foxes travel great distances 
with a view to finding a vixen in every way worthy to 
become the mother of the most crafty foxes that ever lived. 
The general belle and favourite, no doubt, is she who has 
the best record for fooling the hounds. The most success- 
ful chicken-thief comes next, perhaps, in popularity. 

Simpson, the earth-stopper, says the cry of the vixen at 
this season is something to make even " an old stager like 
me creep all over, so weird and human-like is the sound." 
It is sure to remind Simpson, as does everything else you 
may mention, of the battle of Gettysburg. 

The vixen is with cub only nine weeks, and has but 
one litter a year. About the first of April there is many a 
happy fox-mother. April Fools' Day is the appropriate 
day when cubs are apt to come into the world, which 

199 



2 00 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

perhaps accounts for the fooling proclivities of the Re- 
nard family. 

If hounds break cover with a vixen during these domes- 
tic affairs of the fox family after, say, the middle of 
January, they are called off, and madame from that time 
on is shown every consideration. She gets a bit of an 
ousting now and then until her sex is discovered, and this 
is no doubt very good for the future generation, for their 
mothers may thus be able to transmit a bit of instinc- 
tive knowledge about foxhounds that the foxes of an 
earlier generation had to learn by hard experience. There 
has been considerable discussion among hunting men as to 
whether foxes are keener game now than they were forty 
or fifty years ago. A comparison of the number killed 
and of the length of runs would indicate that they are not. 
We must consider, however, that foxhounds have steadily 
improved, and horses as well, so that it need not follow 
from statistics that foxes have lost their cunning. On the 
contrary, they, as well as the hounds, are likely to have 
grown in stoutness and stamina. 

Now come the planning and arrangement of the new 
home. In the course of time a suitable lying-in room is 
arranged on the ground floor, which apartment madame 
arranges to suit herself. It is said that a vixen gives birth 
to her cubs outside of the earth, and then moves in, bag and 
baggage. Her lord and master basks in the sun on a 
southern exposure of the covert by day, but at night goes 
forth to replenish the larder, leaving madame to devote her 
time to her household duties and prepare for the coming 
event. 



The Fox and his Ways 201 

Hounds are said not to follow a vixen heavy with cub. 
Perhaps it is a certain sportsmanlike instinct among wild 
animals that prevents their killing their prey under such 
circumstances. One explanation is that the scent left by 
expectant mothers is too weak to be followed, or changes 
so as to be no longer recognisable. In either case a wise 
provision of nature seems to interfere in their behalf. I 
believe I have seen it somewhere recorded that hounds, if 
they come upon a vixen heavy with cub, will, of their own 
free will, not break her. I have either been told or 
have read of instances where hounds, having overtaken and 
killed their fox, but finding it a vixen heavy with cub, 
have left it alone, and have been found lying about the 
corpse with no apparent eagerness to taste her blood. I 
quote also the following from Thomas Smith's charming 
book " The Life of a Fox as Told by a Fox " : "I heard 
the hounds running a fox close to me, which they very 
soon lost, as they could not or would not hunt it. I thought 
this very strange, as by the use of my nose I knew it was a 
good scenting day ; but it turned out that the fox was a 
vixen who had just laid up her cubs, the efl^ect of which 
generally is to make the scent so different that hounds, old 
ones particularly, appear to know it as if by instinct and 
will not hunt it." 

One fine day madame sends her husband to a human neigh- 
bour's where, she tells him, he will find a nice fat turkey 
that Mrs. Farmer has neglected to lock up for the night. 
This is simply a joke, and the unsuspicious husband, when 
he returns, finds a surprise for him. Four, six, or even 
eight cubs have come to " bless the union " of himself and 



20 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

his spouse, as the old-time biographers would say. They 
have been left in the earth by a passing angel, madame 
explains. Her husband forgets the scolding he had pre- 
pared for her for sending him on a fool's errand, and goes 
off and kills a farmer's lamb to celebrate the event. The 
good Lord keeps the cubbies' eyes darkened for ten days, or 
they might wander away from the fireside and perish, and 
madame has stored up a good supply of fat on her own body, 
from whence her babies may draw should the larder run 
low. The same over-ruling Providence, as Mr. Thomas 
Smith's fox points out, brings the family into the world at 
a season of the year when their favourite food, young rab- 
bits and beetles, is most abundant. Not only is no vixen 
ever hunted in these days, but some huntsmen maintain 
that no dog-fox should be hunted after the first of April, as 
madame needs him to do odd chores about the house and 
assist in keeping the supply of food sufficient for the increas- 
ing wants of the family. 

It is generally believed that the dog-fox may be distin- 
guished from the vixen by the white tip on the end of his 
brush. The fox above quoted says this is not an infallible 
sign, however. " I, a dog-fox," he says, " and one of my 
brothers, and also one of my sisters, had it [the white tip], 
whilst the other sister and the other brother were alto- 
gether without it, not having a single white hair. My 
brother has been known to profit by the exception when 
on being viewed in the spring of the year the hounds have 
been stopped with the remark, ' It is a vixen ; there is no 
white in her brush.' I have since observed that old male 
foxes are of a much lighter colour on the back than are 



The Fox and his Ways 203 

the old females, which are commonly of a dark reddish 
brown." 

The white tip on a vixen, I believe, is the exception to 
the rule, but, however that may be, the ladies are easily 
distinguished — if you can get near enough to note — by 
their size and especially by their more sharply pointed 
noses. The question of colour, especially of shade, is a 
very uncertain one ; it not only varies in the same litter, 
but, to some extent, with the change of coat and season. 

Soon after the cubs' eyes open, they are brought to the 
mouth of the earth and given their first lessons in diving 
back into this harbour of safety at the slightest noise. 
Later, if the earth is in any way disturbed, they are moved 
usually some distance away, and after that are kennelled 
out of doors. They are carried by the mother just as a 
domestic cat moves her kittens, one at a time, lifted by the 
nape of the neck. In this way a vixen will sometimes 
move a whole family several miles during a single night. 
Beetles and mice and later a young rabbit are brought in, 
which mother proceeds to break in truly workmanlike 
manner, dividing quite fairly. Simpson, the earth-stopper, 
tells me madame is very particular in these divisions of her 
spoil, never taking a mouthful of it herself, but devoting 
all her time and energy to teaching etiquette to her family. 
Such a meal is generally consumed at some little distance 
from the home. The cubs, who have been waiting and 
playing about the earth until their mother's return, at a 
call from her rush away to meet her, and are then, perhaps, 
taken still farther away to some secluded spot that she 
knows of, before the fare is served. On no account must a 



204 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

bit of fur or feather be found about the earth. Gypsies 
are not more careful of observing this rule than a vixen- 
fox. After a meal of this sort the brood go back to the 
mouth of the earth, and top off their dinner with a dessert 
from the maternal store, madame looking proudly on while 
they frolic and play about her, darting into the earth now 
and again at some real or imaginary noise. 

The amount of assistance madame gets from her hus- 
band these days is a matter much disputed. Some earth- 
stoppers maintain that he gives none whatever ; others, like 
Simpson, that she is much assisted by the " old man "; 
and if vixen is killed, Simpson declares, he takes up her 
household duties as well as he can. 

Cannon, an earth-stopper to the Quorn Hunt, with 
whom I once had a night tramp, says foxes are not so 
wicked as they are painted. " It is," he says, " only when 
the master of a family has been killed, and madame is 
unfortunate in hunting rabbits, and becomes desperate and 
reckless of her own safety, that she resorts to stealing poul- 
try and young lambs." This view seems rather extreme. 
But possibly the diversity of opinion among earth-stoppers 
and hunting men is owing to the fact that there are foxes 
and foxes. One thing is certain : sometimes they will take 
away a single lamb or hen, and again they will kill twenty 
hens in a single night, hardly tasting their flesh. This, the 
earth-stopper says, is the work of a dog-fox who is out for 
a lark and not to satisfy hunger. Simpson declares that a 
fox never steals a chicken or a lamb from the farmer on 
whose farm the earth is laid, but will go a long distance 
from home to the neighbourhood of some other fox, who 



The Fox and his Ways 205 

he is quite willing should be trapped or shot for the 
offence. Some things one hears from earth-stoppers are 
quite suggestive of fairy-tales, but the cunning of a fox is 
so well understood that it is quite easy to believe almost 
anything. 

That the fox tracks rabbits by scent, as he himself 
is tracked by the hounds, is shown by following both 
their tracks over wet and muddy fallows or on snow. It is 
from the rabbit, perhaps, that the fox learns many a trick, 
for a rabbit can give even a fox points in dodging. If you 
wish to see the prettiest exhibition of hound work in the 
world, you should watch a pack of harriers or beagles fol- 
lowing the line of puss. The proverbial Chinese puzzle is 
easy in comparison. 

Of course no farmer with any self-respect would shoot 
or trap a fox in a hunting country; on the contrary, 
farmers are very proud of having a litter of cubs laid 
upon their farms, and do all they can to protect them and 
see that they are not disturbed. Every earth in a hunt- 
ing district is known to the earth-stopper, and if a litter of 
foxes known to have been laid on a certain farm is not 
found there at cub-hunting time, it is a humiliating state of 
things to the farmer who values the good opinion of the 
County. When such things do happen in England, the 
owner of the covert not at all infrequently sends to London 
and buys a fox or two to turn loose in his covert just be- 
fore they are to be drawn. Nothing could cause a farmer 
more chagrin than the finding of a trap on his farm. 
Altogether the fox is the most favoured and pampered wild 
animal on the farm. 



2o6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Once when I was visiting my friend Mr. R. Kirkham in 
Lincolnshire, he took me one day back on his farm to see 
a Htter of cubs that he was very proud of. He was afraid, 
however, the vixen was not a good milker, for the cubs did 
not seem to be doing as well as he thought they should. 
Perhaps, he added, Mrs. Fox may have been left a widow ; 
so we took with us a basin of chicken bones and scraps 
of meat, and left them at the poor vixen's door. 

" I don't want to do this sort of thing too much," he 
said apologetically, probably because the pan was not full. 
" It won't do to encourage idleness, you know. Foxes, to 
be kept in good health, must have work. Besides, I want 
them to be very fit when the hunting season opens, so as to 
give us the run of the season." 

Such are the sentiments of an English tenant-farmer, 
who seldom rides to hounds himself but who is the right 
sort nevertheless. Mr. Kirkham gives a most interesting 
account of the habits of foxes ; he has evidently spent con- 
siderable time in looking after the widows. 

" I often come up here to see how they are getting on," 
he says, "and sometimes I am able to steal up and get a 
sight of them playing about the earth like a lot of kittens. 
One will pretend to be dead. He lies stretched out, ap- 
parently cold and stiff as a corpse, and with his eyes closed, 
though I think he keeps them a wee crack open. The 
breeze plays with his hair, and altogether there never was an 
act done truer to life, or, I should say, death. Seeing this, 
another cub approaches cautiously, when up springs the 
dead one, and the pair clinch and roll over in a good- 
natured wrestling match. This is only the rehearsal of the 




"'^€^^4f^m 







-'^t^ 



/^E 












^ 






The Fox and his Ways 207 

way in which they will afterward fool some silly old 
goose whose curiosity gets the better of her judgment. Then 
they will chase each other. The leader, springing to one 
side, lies flat until the other, unprepared for the dodge, 
rushes past, and the pursued rushes back to the earth. This 
is their trump trick, and the one that more than any other 
saves their lives when pressed by hounds. As the cubs get 
a little older, Madame Fox takes one or two at a time with 
her on a hunting expedition. She seems to think her years 
of practical experience are necessary to the young things, 
and doubtless they are of great value." 

In such ways the cubs grow more and more wily and 
schooled in all the tricks and craft in which as a family no 
other quadruped is their equal. It would require pages to 
record all their cunning in pursuit of their game. Later 
we shall attempt to show other examples of their clever- 
ness in the tricks they play upon the hounds and the strata- 
gem of the huntsmen in circumventing them. Like chess, 
hunting the fox is a deep game, and it requires a clear head 
and years of experience in woodcraft to play it well. 

Discoursing of the fox and his ways, Mr. Kirkham and I 
returned to the house late to dinner. Upon my host's 
apologising and madame's learning what had detained us, I 
was amused by the good-natured sparring match that 
sprang up between them on the same old subject. 

"Well," began Mrs. Kirkham, "if I wasted as much 
time as you do looking after that vixen and her cubs, I 
should never expect to get any dinner. Here 's dinner 
now, nearly spoiled." 

Her husband turned to me with a sly look in his eyes. 



2o8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

"But if you will raise foxhound puppies," he replied, 
" I must provide them with something to do when they are 
grown. You know it costs more to raise a couple of fox- 
hound puppies than half a dozen Lincoln sheep, and if you 
take into account what they destroy I might say a dozen. 
Now, foxes," declared my host, "are not nearly so expensive 
a luxury." 

"Are n't they, though? As I get the proceeds of the 
poultry, perhaps I ought to know. Don't you mind how 
they killed my best prize-winning silver dorking cock last 
year, that I refused five pounds for at the Royal Show ? " 

"That was n't the fox's fault. What can you expect 
when you don't properly lock up your cocks for the night ? 
Besides, I don't believe a fox killed your bird at all. It 
must have been a skunk or a weasel did it. My feeding 
the cubs occasionally is only a safeguard against their steal- 
ing your chickens." 

" Well," retorted madame, whom her husband in courtesy, 
like the sportsman he is, permitted to have the last word, 
" if you rear foxes on the farm, I must grow the hounds 
to kill them." 

This brought the argument to a standstill, with honours 
easy and neither party to the dispute perhaps essentially 
dissatisfied. 



XIX 

SCENT 



** To ev'ry shrub the warm effluvia cling. 

Hang on the grass, impregnate earth and skies. 
With nostrils op'ning wide, o'er hill, o'er dale. 
The vig'rous hounds pursue, with ev'ry breath 
Inhale the grateful steam; quick pleasures sting 
Their tingling nerves, while they their thanks repay. 
And in triumphant melody confess 
The titillating joy." 

SOMERVILLE 




XIX 

SCENT 

SOME THEORIES COMPARED FONDNESS OF HOUNDS FOR THE 

TRAIL HOUND MUSIC AND A NOVICE 

JF all the vexed questions pertaining to the 
chase of vv^ild game, that of scent, "that 
weary, incomprehensible, uncontrollable phe- 
nomenon, consistent only in its inconsistency," 
aTjorocks puts it, is the most puzzling. I shall not 
attempt to enter into a full discussion of this most interest- 
ing problem, but content myself v^^ith stating a few well- 
established facts, and leave the reader to work out the riddle 
as best he can. It will be found a good subject to occupy 
his mind during a long ride home. But I give him fair 
warning that the hypothesis he sets up to-day to his entire 
satisfaction is likely to fall like a card house at the very 
next run or before the attack of some one who is further 
along in the study. 

I believe, however, all theorists sooner or later come to 
acknowledge that certain conditions of the atmosphere 
seem to favour the lasting qualities of the scent, though m 
some way that makes barometers or thermometers unsatis- 
factory guides. The breaking of a frost, the evaporation 



212 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

of the dew, is thought to take with it the line of the hunted 
game. A porous or sandy soil is believed to absorb it. The 
scent itself is thought by some theorists to be left by the 
feet, by others to come principally from the body, while 
still another school says it comes from both. 

All agree, also, I believe, that a sleeping fox gives little 
or no scent, that if he keeps still in covert, as he some- 
times does, hounds can and do run over and all about him 
without detecting his presence. Again, if he has gone in a 
leisurely way out of covert just before hounds arrive, it is 
with difficulty that they are able to own the line, even on a 
good scenting day. It is during this first part of nearly 
every run that a clever huntsman urges on his pack as 
fast as ever he can and still keep their noses down ; that is 
to say, as fast as he can just short of lifting them forward. 
His idea is to get them on good terms with their fox and 
that particular one as quickly as possible. 

That under favourable conditions scent improves or 
grows stronger as the chase of the heated fox progresses, 
and dies down or weakens when the fox becomes exhausted, 
is also clear. Many a sinking fox but a few yards ahead 
of the hounds saves his brush because hounds are no longer 
able to follow the line. It has, indeed, been noticed that 
some of the older hounds begin driving to the front the 
moment they detect this weakening of the scent. Expe- 
rience has taught them that the end is near, while younger 
hounds lose interest because the sensation is now less stim- 
ulating to their olfactory nerves. This is so established 
that when old experienced hounds from going in the mid- 
dle or rear of the pack make a dive to the front, it is taken 



Scent 213 

as a signal that the game is almost up, and knowing riders 
put on more steam to be the first in at the death. 

Particular foxes have particular odours of their own, 
stronger in some than in others, probably owing to their 
physical condition or the state of their health. If this 
were not so, hounds would be always changing foxes. The 
more experienced hounds have learned that it is best to 
stick to the fox they started with, whether his scent be 
strong or weak, and the huntsman uses the greatest care to 
see that the pack does not change. The younger members 
have this to learn. When they are seen to drive ahead 
while the older hounds check, the huntsman knows for a 
certainty almost that they have changed foxes. The 
whipper-in rushes to the heads of the youngsters to turn 
them back, while the elders stick to the original fox. 
This they are able to do even if the latter's line crosses a 
dozen fresh lines, some of them much stronger, perhaps, 
than the one first followed. That it is desirable to keep 
to the one fox is obvious. 

That scent is good or bad largely owing to the condition 
of the atmosphere is a point on which nearly every one 
agrees. At the same time, it seems due not to any condi- 
tion registered by barometer or thermometer, but to some 
element pervading all ether, else a passing current of air 
would dispel it. One often sees hounds racing to a line 
that has half a gale of wind blowing across it, or, on a still 
day when hardly a leaf is stirring, unable to follow when 
the fox is not ten rods away. That the coarser particles 
which make the scent may be blown away on the air, no 
one can doubt ; there must nevertheless be some property 



2 14 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

of them which remains. Of course a dry, hot day, a parched 
pasture, a hot sun, is bad for scent. In a way, the action 
of scent is not unHke that of smoke or steam. On certain 
days a locomotive leaves a trail of steam or smoke that 
ascends quickly to the upper air ; again, one that descends 
as quickly to the earth, or hangs evenly in mid-air just 
above its point of issue. On some days steam vanishes 
from view directly upon leaving the mouth of the stack ; 
again, it leaves a white path a quarter of a mile long in the 
wake of the train. All these different aspects are doubtless 
owing to some atmospheric influence, and just so it seems 
to be with the scent of a fox — sometimes rising quickly, as 
it does, sometimes clinging to the grass and bushes for 
yards on either side of the line, or hanging slightly above 
the earth so that the hounds instead of stooping to it race 
away with heads up and sterns down, running, as the say- 
ing is, with *' scent breast-high." Sometimes it is spread 
so wide to right or left of a line that every hound in the 
pack, although running rods to either side of the line, can 
"feel" it. 

That scent does not come from pads alone is evident from 
the ability of hounds to follow it a long distance in water- 
soaked ground where the fox has had to wade, or across a 
wide stream which the fox has had to swim, the water 
through which he swam having moved downward with the 
current. It happens that scent will be good in one field 
and bad in the next, one being sheltered by a piece of wood, 
the other not. Conditions of the atmosphere of one field 
may not exist in the next. That bare ground and fallow 
land are not usually so good as grass and stubble is accounted 



Scent 215 

for by the fact that the particles of effluvia left behind by 
the fox, if they settle, have not so much to cling to. The 
"working," as the farmers call it, of a newly ploughed 
field may cause chemical action there that absorbs or dis- 
pels scent, and yet again such land sometimes carries the 
scent beautifully, even across a dusty highway. Others 
believe a sandy soil absorbs scent, but I have little faith in 
this theory. The scent more likely goes the other way, 
on heat waves caused by rapid radiation, for if absorbed by 
sandy or porous soil the particles would adhere to the soil, 
and make the line, if anything, plainer than it is on a hard 
clay, in which as a matter of fact scent is generally better. 
Clay ground is believed to hold a scent longer than sand 
or loam, and probably does, because evaporation is less than 
on sand. But enough of this : I meant only to advance a 
few theories to set one thinking upon this ever-interesting 
topic. 

Still another peculiarity of scent is the hounds' extraor- 
dinary fondness for it. Disagreeable as the odour is to 
man, hounds seem ever more keen to follow a fox's line 
than to break the fox himself. The huntsman has gen- 
erally little trouble to secure a fox from the hounds after 
they have killed him ; at least, hounds never seem so eager 
to make away with him as one would expect from the 
greediness with which they pursued his line. Judging 
from their actions in covert, the first nostrilful of the 
scent fairly intoxicates them. Their sterns lash, and each 
particular hair on their backs stands on end. They raise 
their heads and throw their tongues with a clamourous yell 
of delight that fairly sets them back on their haunches. If 



2i6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the line is faint they can hardly contain themselves, and 
whimper and cry like children with disappointment. Here 
indeed is one of the severest tests of a hound's truthfulness. 
Sometimes his imagination runs away with his judgment, 
and away goes his tongue. The other hounds leave their 
work and rush to the babbler's side, but fail to confirm him. 
The disgusted expression a hound shows at such a false 
alarm is something almost human. He comes on a run, 
cropping his head for a taste ; but when the mistake is dis- 
covered, his whole countenance changes and he stalks away 
disgusted. The huntsman meanwhile has his eye on the 
babbler. Once or twice more of this sort of lying, and the 
deceiver's days are numbered. 

The other hounds, fooled once or twice, pay no further 
attention to him, even if he speak the truth. But let one 
of the old hounds proclaim the news, and instantly every 
hound is at his side. 

"That 's old Bluebells!" cries the major, as he and his 
knowing old horse Friar both eagerly listen for a whim- 
per. "That 's old Bluebells! There is a fox on foot, 
that's sure. I 'd take that old bitch's word for a million." 
And he charges on around the covert where his black-and- 
tan beauties have set their fox on foot. 

It is a beautiful and stirring sight to watch twenty-odd 
couple of well-bred, perfectly schooled foxhounds when 
drawing a covert. How they fling themselves here, rush 
there, now in a bunch with heads down and sterns waving 
wildly as if a tornado had struck them, now scattered, one 
running straight ahead for a rod, to stop suddenly and cast 







(U 

O 



OS 



o 

OS 



Scent 217 

back! "Edawick, Edawick!" shouts the huntsman, or, to 
encourage them to draw, seeing some of them incHned to 
speak, he cheers them on with " Rout him out ! Rout him 
out ! Rouse him, my beauties ! Out with him, every- 
body ! " And at it they go, more desperate than ever. 

Forrester charges at a clump of bushes, and begins wav- 
ing his stern Hke a soldier at signal drill. The huntsman 
keeps his eye on him, for he is a very clever hound at 
finding. He gives a whimper ; his hackles are up. 
*' Speak to it, Forrester! Speak to it, good boy." But 
Forrester will not lie, even to please the huntsman. In the 
meantime Bluebells, seeing Forrester about to speak, rushes 
past him, stoops to the line to make doubly sure, braces her- 
self, lifts her head, and with one exultant cry of joy pro- 
claims the find. The huntsman, cap in hand, cheers on 
the pack again with " Hark to Bluebells, hark to Bluebells," as 
she bounds away, joined by all the pack, who confirm her 
proclamation in one joyous chorus that makes the forest 
ring for miles around. 

Yes, it is a stirring sight, one to make a hunting man's 
blood tingle to his finger-tips. Your true hunting man 
wonders how through it all some men can sit their horses 
and yawn and look bored, as wooden as a cigar-shop 
Indian with the whole block on fire behind him. Is our 
civilisation making women of us, that we no longer feel 
the sportsman's fire ? 

I pity a man who can look upon a sight like this 
and see nothing, or hear such thrilling music and ask, as I 
heard a man ask of a member of the Genesee Valley 



2i8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Hunt: "Ah, what are the dogs barking at, do you think ?" 
— to which the member, whose ready tongue never misses 
fire, replied : 

" Got a squirrel up a tree; you will see him come down 
in a minute." 

" Ah, fancy ! How can they ever expect to catch a 
fox if the dogs make such a noise about it?" 



XX 

FARMERS AND CITY MEN 



** The farmer in front on a bonny grey mare 

Is sailing along in the van ; 
He tackles his fences with plenty to spare. 
And trusts to the mettle that comes from Kildare, 

This sportsman who rides like a man." 

POEMS IN PINK 




XX 
FARMERS AND CITY MEN 

OBLIGATIONS OF HUNTING MEN TO FARMERS FARMERS* COMPEN- 
SATION AND DAMAGES CITY MEN IN THE COUNTRY SNOBS 

MAN may have the best hunter money can 
buy, the latest thing in hunting-togs and sad- 
dle equipments, hounds with the best noses in 
the world and the most "heavenly music"; 
but he cannot ride across a farmer's field except with the 
farmer's consent, given or implied. 

Hunting men, especially city men, seldom appreciate the 
obligations the hunt is under to the farmers whose land 
they ride over. In the city signs of " Keep off the grass " 
or "No trespassing" are instinctively obeyed ; but let a man 
come down into the Genesee Valley, not alone and on 
foot, but with forty, fifty, or seventy men on horses, and go 
galloping across a farmer's meadows, and it is taken as a 
matter of course. The sportsmen think, perhaps, if they 
think at all: "Oh, the farmer sells his oats and hay and 
raises hunters which we buy at long prices. He ought not 
to complain." Surely one has heard some hunting man 
say this. They should be advised, however, never to repeat 
it ; for one thing, because the supposed compensation to the 

221 



22 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

farmers does not amount to enough in a year to be worth 
mentioning. It is a basin of very old chaff; — small won- 
der the farmer only smiles sceptically but is never really 
appeased by such veritable nonsense. 

So many writers on hunting have repeated this sort of 
thing so often that they have come to believe it. Their 
wishes are fathers to their theories. Yet it is a false doctrine 
which one should wish to see set right. 

Can they mean to say that if hunting men did not move 
into a country the farmer would have no market for his 
crops ? 

" Of course not ; but there is the sale of his hunters," 
they contend. 

And are there no other animals he can raise ? Is there 
no other market for hunters ? Is theirs the only club on 
earth ? They talk as if the farmer would starve if it were 
not for the sale of his products to hunting men. When 
they say the farmer ought to welcome the hunting men 
across his fields for what he gets out of the hunt, they insult 
his intelligence. Where do the hunting men buy their 
hay ? Nine out of ten buy of the dealer in town. Their 
oats are ordered by telephone, and may never have seen the 
farmer's lands which the buyers hunt over. Nor is the 
hunting season the only time when the farmer can sell oats. 
As for hunters, nine out of ten are picked up by the dealers, 
who buy them, perhaps, for scarcely fifty dollars more than 
they would have had to pay for a farm-horse, no more than 
they would have to pay for a good coach or standard bred 
horse. No ; all this talk about the farmers' compen- 
sation is only another instance of the parrot talk with 



Farmers and City Men 223 

which we become familiar in the course of a hunting 
career. 

It is not for any imagined increase of revenue that the 
farmer allows the hunt to cross his lands, protects a litter 
of foxes in his fields, or takes mischievous puppies to walk. 
The foxes or the puppies alone cost him more every year 
than what he gets out of the hunting men over and above 
the regular price of farm products. A fox will kill per- 
haps twenty head of poultry in a single night. A hound 
puppy may destroy a twenty-dollar lap-robe in twenty 
minutes. The huntsmen smash his fence and leave his 
gates open, so that he and his men have to spend the rest 
of the day and half of the night, perhaps, looking for stray 
cattle or sheep. What compensation is it, what consola- 
tion, for the farmer to be told that he may get a cent or 
two more a bushel for a hundred bushels of oats, when the 
riders racing across his meadows frighten his cows so that 
the shrinkage in the flow of milk amounts to dollars ? 
What is to pay him for the premature birth of the calf from 
his best cow, or of the lambs from the ewe that was raced 
into the corner of the pasture ? It is his big heart, not his 
hope of small pennies, that makes him endure all this. 

To be sure, there is supposed to be compensation for 
damages from the hunt ; but not one farmer in ten, in 
America at least, ever demands it. No one outside of the 
farmer's family or the visiting neighbour ever knows of 
the damage. The Master himself, who knows a good deal, 
never hears the half, because farmers do not like to com- 
plain of amounts that are trifling, and keep still even 
when they may feel aggrieved and have met with serious 



2 24 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

injury to property. Mr. Austin Wadsworth, M.F.H., of 
the Genesee Valley Hunt, once told me that during the 
number of years he had been Master there he had paid out 
only a small sum, all told, for damages. No ; hunting men 
are permitted to ride over farms because the farmer likes 
to see them enjoy themselves ; even if he cannot afford to 
keep a hunter or take a half-holiday himself, he bids them 
welcome. 

Few city men appreciate this welcome. Reverse the 
case and it would be another story. Suppose the owner of 
a furniture-shop in town had forty or fifty roughshod 
farmers periodically rushing through his shop, kicking over 
chairs, breaking mirrors, leaving the door of the varnish- 
room open till a cloud of dust made the new work to do 
all over again — how much comforted would he be to 
have them say they might buy a rocking-chair or two, 
and tell him he ought to welcome such good patrons and 
not be grumbling? The debt the hunters owe the farmers 
whose land they ride over is one of gratitude, and can 
never be reduced to figures. They pay a thousand dollars 
apiece for their hunters, a hundred for their hunting-suits, 
three cents a mile to the railway company to journey to 
the valley, and dollars or pennies to hotels, servants, or 
grooms. Every bill they owe, little or big, they pay to the 
last penny, or ought to ; but none pays the farmer, directly 
or indirectly, for riding roughshod across his fields. It is 
really too bad to spout that musty speech about the farmer's 
pecuniary advantage from the hunt. One should rather 
speak out like a sportsman and own the debt ; for, although 
he cannot square accounts, he can at least have a care. 



Farmers and City Men 225 

If not in coin of the realm, at least in courtesy the debt 
may be recognised. It is surprising to see how chary of 
thanks some city men are to their country creditors. Some 
of these are members of the hunt, they or their sons or both ; 
yet how does the city man treat them when he meets them 
in the hunting-field ? Many times as if they were beneath 
his notice. Such discourtesy is intolerable. City men who 
go into the country should do their best to prevent such 
snobbishness. Even if they do not care a toss of their 
heads for the feelings of the farmers or their own reputa- 
tion among them, they should think of the Master, and for 
his sake make an effort to treat the country members of 
the hunt with gentlemanly consideration. Nothing they 
could do would please him better, unless it were refraining 
from riding on top of his hounds. A true sportsman, however 
unskilled at a game, is first of all a gentleman ; the two 
terms should be synonymous. Your true sportsman and gen- 
tleman observes the golden rule. Youthful members of 
the hunt especially should look to it that they admire the 
proficiency of a fellow-hunter rather than his dress. They 
will often find that some of the best and keenest sportsmen 
wear old clothes, that some of the best horsemen ride long- 
tailed horses and wear slouched hats, that a man with the 
best seat and the best hands sometimes goes with a toggled 
bridle and rusty saddle-irons, but is 

A rider unequalled, a sportsman complete, 
A rum one to follow, and a bad one to beat. 

They should remember, in short, that as a rule farmers 
and farmers' sons know more about the art and science of 



2 26 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

fox-hunting than many of the men who dress and feel 
above them. 

I must confess, too, there is more snobbishness displayed 
in the hunting-field in America than among the most 
fashionable packs in England. One great charm of hunt- 
ing in England is the entire absence of snobbishness. Dukes 
and farmers, lords and merchants, meet for the day on one 
common level. Riding to covert you will see a former 
prime minister talking pleasantly to a tenant-farmer, a 
wealthy duke chatting with a horse-dealer, an illustrious 
knight asking the village cobbler for a match. I believe 
some townsmen in America would faint away if a farmer 
should ask them the time o' day. But an English gentleman 
sportsman is the most gentlemanly gentleman in the world, 
and perfect absence of snobbishness is one of his char- 
acteristics. 

Edward VII, the present King of England, is, and as 
Prince of Wales was, a lesson and example in this respect to 
all snobs. If ever there was a genuine sportsman. His 
Majesty is one. He goes in for breeding pure-bred cattle 
and sheep, and his stock is seen at all the leading shows and 
fairs in England, competing for prizes against the country 
tenant-farmers. Neither King Edward nor the late Queen, 
who was also a keen breeder and exhibitor, ever exhibited 
anything except what was bred and reared on their own 
farms. They could have sent about the country to buy up 
a lot of prize-winners if they had wished, but their sports- 
manship forbade such taking advantage of their competitors. 
The King's stock, sent to any fair, receives the same treat- 
ment as that of the farmer : is kept in the same stalls ; and in 



Farmers and City Men 227 

the same ring, under the same conditions, wins or loses. 
It is no infrequent sight to see the King, as I saw him at the 
Royal Agricultural Show at York, go into an enclosure 
where fifty shepherds and farmers stand holding as many 
rams for his inspection, nor find it beneath his dignity to 
shake hands with tenant-farmers, to give a smile and a nod 
to a lad who has his hands full keeping a refractory ram in 
position, or a "thank you" to some old weather-beaten 
shepherd who holds a sheep while the King parts the 
wool to inspect the quality. It is said, and I can well be- 
lieve, that His Royal Highness, as he was till recently, never 
looked so much a man as the day he placed himself on a 
level with the humblest competitors in the contest for 
prizes, and walked among them afterward, not as a prince, 
but as a farmer. One need not marvel at his great popu- 
larity, or seek long to discover what makes him one of the 
best-liked men in England. It is because the instincts of 
true sportsmanship direct every act 

Lastly, I might add that the talented author of" Poems in 
Pink" agrees with me on this score of snobbishness, for he 
writes : 

Leave us the chase, where, in harmony blending, 

Men of all classes ride on to the end. 
Men become brothers, each brother contending ; 

Every true sportsman is counted a friend. 



XXI 
THE LADY RIDER 



** Methinks I can see them — the mare she was riding. 
As bold as a lion, as meek as a dove; 
The hunter so tame in the hand that was guiding 
Its movements with kindness, its mettle with love." 

POEMS IN PINK 




XXI 
THE LADY RIDER 

HER POSITION IN THE FIELD HER HORSEMANSHIP HER 

COURAGE AND RESOLUTION A FAMOUS RIDER 

|OST men, and at any rate all true sportsmen, 
agree in paying to the women of their race 
a chivalrous respect, constituting themselves 
at all times helping hands in little things and 
champions in great. There can be no rule without an 
exception, however, and the exception to the rule of 
romantic chivalry occurs when men and women meet in 
the way of business or on the hunting-field. When a 
woman enters business as a competitor with man, she puts 
herself on his level, and should, and in many cases does, 
expect him to treat her with neither more nor less consid- 
eration than he would show another man. She is in the 
game and takes her chances. It would be unsportsman- 
like not to treat her in every way as an equal. If she 
loses at cards, a man should not, because she is a woman, 
count only three points against her when she has lost five ; 
if she backs the wrong horse she should pay every farthing ; 
and when she rides out to take her chances with men in 
the chase, she plays a game as truly as if she played bil- 

231 



232 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

liards or cards. She understands that she is on the same 
footing with the other members, regardless of sex, and 
if she is the thorough sportsman which she often is in these 
days, she expects no favours, and men need not feel under 
obligations to give her any more attention or assistance than 
if she were one of themselves. 

Precisely the difficulty with ladies in the hunting-field, 
however, is that men cannot seem to rid themselves of this 
notion of their devoirs. If a lady is just behind at a gap, 
for instance, they must halt and let her pass first. This is 
wrong in the end. They wrong themselves, and make her 
feel at last that she is a burden. If a gale of wind is 
likely to slam a gate against her, it should be let to slam. 
A man is under no obligation to put his horse in a temper 
or lose his position on this account. If she cannot manage 
the gate as he had to, let her be caught by it. This may 
seem a heartless, cold-blooded thing to say, but it is the atti- 
tude which, in the long run, conduces most to a fair rider's 
sport and pleasure. 

One hears the unkind comment not infrequently, of 
course, that men are agreeable and generous in the draw- 
ing-room, but selfish the moment hounds begin running, 
and the fault is more with the men really than with the 
women. Men seem to feel they simply must be gallant. 
This is especially true of Americans. 

Yet, in one sense, this is only to be expected, for a woman 
in the field is a constant object of wonderment or admira- 
tion. There is nothing that sets off a nice hunter as her 
figure does, nothing that adds more to the beauty and 
interest of the game than the presence of a goodly number 







OS 



O 

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The Lady Rider 233 

of ladies. They are totally unaccountable. They do the 
most reckless things, entirely oblivious of circumstances. 
Look at this Amazon with loose rein and horse rushing 
without let or hindrance through a piece of woods, her 
hair down and streaming out behind. You expect to see 
her skirts cling to some projecting prong of a tree, or her 
hair catch on some limb overhead. Away she goes, happy in 
the ecstasy of the chase. A check you think ought to find 
her face blanched ; but you reckon without your host. 
Not she! She simply throws the reins down on the neck 
of her horse, which is quite willing to stand, being pumped 
to a turn, and begins with both hands to arrange her back 
hair, having previously filled her mouth with hair-pins. 
Her face struggles with smiles she cannot repress. And 
as the last hair-pin is released from between her ruby lips, 
she says to any one who may happen to be standing near, 
" Was it not glorious, that ride through the woods ? " 

Horsemanship is not a woman's forte, yet with those 
wonderful hands of hers she can manage many a horse 
with ease that a man would discard as a brute for pulling. 
Away she sails through footing good or bad, with the 
same free hand, leaving her horse to manage for himself. 
The lines are in her hands, it is true, but she seldom inter- 
feres with the bit. 

Another beautiful thing about her riding is that her 
mount seems to be in perfect harmony with her ways, A 
sort of mystic understanding seems to exist between them ; 
she seems to govern by some subtle power like hypnotism. 
She never irritates or worries or punishes him in any way. 
This, by the way, is one very important lesson to be learned 



2^4 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

from her. A man who rode in her style would be called 
a reckless daredevil, and probably be run away with every 
day he came out. The chances she takes successfully seem 
to suggest a charmed Hfe, or strengthen one's faith in the 
good old doctrine of predestination. 

Occasionally a lady rider exhibits a bit of horsemanship, 
but as a rule she is conspicuous for her lack of it, although, 
amusingly enough, she does not know it, nor does her mount 
seem to find it out. 

"Some day," once said a young hunting man to me, "there 
will be a most horrible accident to a lady rider in the 
hunting-field, though may I never be present to witness it. 
She courts danger as she does admiration." 

" I have been expecting it for the last sixty years," said 
an old hunting man to me in England, " but it never 
comes." 

" She takes my breath away," remarked a friend of mine 

one day as we saw Miss F , a most welcome addition 

to the Genesee Valley Hunt, send her faithful grey at a 
fence with a miry take-off and a big drop on the landing 
side. It was an awful scramble, but the blood of Wa-wa- 
zanda was in the old mare's veins. She had her own way, 
entirely unhampered, and in time we regained our normal 
respiration. 

The same woman who would jump upon a chair in 
fright if a mouse ran across the room, or who would rather 
die than bait a hook with a squirming angleworm, will 
sail with apparently no concern at a stake-and-rider fence 
with a ditch on the landing side that makes us shut our 
eyes. They are enigmas, certainly. Their riding to 



The Lady Rider 235 

hounds is an object-lesson, but their boldness springs not 
from bravery or pluck or nerve, but simply resolution. 
They have made up their minds to go, and whatever it is 
that stands for their nerve or courage is screwed to the 
sticking-point until the end of the run. I say all this with 
the greatest respect, of course, and mean no slur whatever. 
I remember once, upon my ship's arriving in the Bay of 
Fayal, Azores, passengers were obliged to go ashore in life- 
boats in a sea that was running very high, and among them 
was a woman whose destination was Fayal. She was a 
peculiarly nervous type, just short, indeed, of the hysterical. 
During the voyage, if the great ship gave an unusual lurch 
or roll, she would scream in terror, and every one won- 
dered how in the world she was to get down the narrow 
gangway and into the small boat, bounding up and down as 
it was, with no assisting hand. A person descending the 
ladder had to stop on the last round and wait until a wave 
of the right height placed the small boat on a level with 
the step an instant before it dropped again ten or fifteen 
feet into the trough of the sea. The captain, a Portuguese, 
in a comical state of anxiety to know how to manage this 
particular passenger, finally turned and walked away, fear- 
ing a scene. The key of the situation, however, was in 
her woman's head. A firm look of resolution settled over 
her face. She glanced once over the rail ; then, with a toss 
of her head, walked to the ladder and, spurning all assis- 
tance, made the descent with less apparent concern than any 
man who had preceded her. Such was her woman's way. 
It was simply resolution, that set like a time-lock and car- 
ried her through. No doubt she fainted at the landing. 



236 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

At least one hunt in America has probably a dozen most 
accomplished horsewomen — the Toronto Hunt Club of 
Ontario, Canada. Nowhere have I ever seen so many 
brilliant lady riders to hounds. And, by the way, there is 
no prettier hunt club in America than this same Toronto 
Club. The club-house, in the natural forest, on a steep 
bluff on the shores of Lake Ontario, is one of the most 
delightful spots, planned and managed in the best of taste. 
The great charm of the place is that nature has been left 
severely alone. The paths are simply trails through the 
wood. The club-house itself is a model of convenience, 
and the arrangement and management of the kennels are 
superior to anything I have ever seen on the same side of 
the Atlantic. 

One of the most enjoyable days to hounds I ever had in 
England was in the wake of an accomplished horsewoman. 
I had been spending a week in the Quorn country, and on 
the train for Warwick fell in with some hunting men, of 
whom I enquired with what pack they hunted and where 
the meet was. They hunted with the North Warwick- 
shire hounds, it seemed, and the meet was that day at Kenil- 
worth Castle. As I should be passing Kenilworth, I thought 
I would drop off there and look at the castle, which I had 
never seen, and also, perhaps, get a glimpse of my new ac- 
quaintances again at the meet at eleven. Though with 
little time to spare, I was so fortunate as to secure an excel- 
lent mount at a livery, a clean-bred thoroughbred whose 
rider had telegraphed at the last moment that he could not 
come. I slipped into my hunting-clothes, and was at the 
meet in the nick of time. It was a glorious day, and there 



The Lady Rider 237 

were nearly two hundred riders present, whose pink coats 
lent an exhilarating colour to the picture. It so happened 
when we got off that I found myself striding along in the 
wake of the most artistic and accomplished lady rider I had 
ever seen. Besides a perfect figure, her seat and carriage 
were faultless, and she seemed to have an unusual amount of 
horse-sense or horsemanship, that most pleasing because one 
of the least frequent gifts among women who ride to 
hounds. Do what I would, I had to be content with a view 
of her back. We had a glorious gallop of twenty minutes 
or more straight away over beautiful meadows, as thrilling 
and brilliant a charge as one could wish, hunters to right 
of us, hunters to left of us. On rode my pilot, and well ; 
bullfinch and ditch, timber and brook — I never had such 
a lead in my life. A check came none too soon, for our 
horses were done to a turn. 

"Who is that lady?" I asked a farmer-looking chap, 
pointing to my pilot. He looked at me from head to foot. 

" Don't you know who that is?" 

" No ; I am a stranger here." 

" Bless you, sir ! But every one in England knows that 
lady, or ought to. That 's the Countess of Warwick." — 
Whose face, I must confess, was as beautiful as her figure, 
which was, in turn, as perfect as her riding. 

I pulled out of the run to take the three-o'clock train for 
Warwick, and had a charming visit of sight-seeing at the 
castle. As the guide was showing me through, I asked to 
see some relics of Richard, Earl of Warwick, of whom I had 
read in Bulwer Lytton's "Last of the Barons." 

"They are in the living-rooms," he replied. "If the 



238 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

family are away I may possibly take you in." He returned 
to inform me the countess was hunting. 

"Yes," said I; "I have reason to know she is hunting. 
I had twenty minutes in her wake this very afternoon, and 
it was the greatest twenty minutes of my life in the saddle." 

My praise of his lady so touched his heart that he 
showed me all through the house. It was an unexpected 
day, but one in which my cup was right side up from start 
to finish. I take the liberty to relate this little adven- 
ture freely by way of thanks for courtesies received and in 
tribute to perfect riding. 

One thing that spoils many riding men and particularly 
makes miserable many riding women is that the moment 
they are accomplished enough to keep to the front, jealousy 
of the accomplishments of others springs up in them. They 
begin to talk about how they cut down So-and-so, and fish 
generally for compliments. The women, at any rate, get 
them, of course, which only intensifies their spirit of emula- 
tion, and sooner or later will mark the end of their riding. 
Yet, with all the lady rider's faults, we love her still. May 
she never cease to grace the hunting-field with her pres- 
ence. She certainly has a charmed as well as a charming 
life in the saddle, and I, for one, welcome her ever if she 
knows that every woman is a man in the hunting-field, and 
that it is every man for himself, with his Satanic Majesty to 
look after the hindmost. 



XXII 
MIND-POWER HORSEMANSHIP 



*' I said to myself, it is hard to believe. 
But yet as I look I can plainly perceive. 
In the dash of the horse that is leading the van. 
The workings that come from the mind of the man." 

POEMS IN PINK 




XXII 
MIND-POWER HORSEMANSHIP 

AN INDEFINABLE SOMETHING" PERSONAL MAGNETISM 

CONSENT TO BE GOVERNED CULTIVATION OF 

MIND-POWER CONTROL 

'HERE seems to exist between man and beast 
a certain force by which the former is able to 
exert over the latter some subtle influence to 
which various names such as " bond of sym- 
pathy," *' an indefinable something," are occasionally given. 
So far as I am aware, no writer on hunting has attempted 
to advance any hypothesis which may reasonably account 
for the source of this power or define its scope and limi- 
tations. 

We hear it said that dogs and horses love certain people 
because these people love them, and that this love itself 
explains their control over horses or dogs. " All dogs 
take to me," one person says ; " I don't know why it is, 
but I can make them do almost anything." And, indeed, 
some persons easily teach a dog or a cat or a bird a trick 
which another would require weeks to instruct them in, if 
he did not fail altogether. Yet, while it is true that a per- 
son who loves animals is more likely to train them easily, 

241 



242 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the power cannot be attributed to love, for often an entire 
stranger can make an animal do things which the owner, 
who loves the creature dearly and is in turn dearly loved, 
fails to accomplish. One man will take a horse that he 
has never seen or ridden before through a cross-country 
run to hounds, and bring him in at the death without 
exhausting him as much as his owner would, although the 
latter may be as good a horseman and lighter in weight. 
Every hunting-field affords examples of this, which cannot 
be accounted for by difference of horsemanship. Writers 
on hunting all agree that some men can make a horse do 
most incredible things, and attribute this wonderful power 
of control to " better hands," " better seat," or what not. 
It must be admitted that a person with very bad hands or 
a bad seat, or both, may irritate a horse and take more 
out of him in a run than a man with perfect hands and 
seat ; but an explanation on this basis does not account for 
the fact that a better rider and a lighter can come through 
a run with the better-conditioned horse pumped to a turn, 
while another man who has ridden the same line brings 
his horse in comparatively fresh ; or that two such men 
may change horses in the next run and find the results 
change too. The fact has been demonstrated so often in 
every hunting-field that I need not enlarge upon it, except 
to say we must look further than any theory as to hands 
and seat, or of the power of love, in explanation of such 
phenomena. 

Most of my readers have doubtless seen, at exhibitions 
throughout the country, examples of the wonderful control 
some men have over animals, the wild becoming tame, the 



Mind-power Horsemanship 243 

nervous quiet, and the vicious tractable under their magic 
influence. Such things are sometimes explained by the 
sceptics as the results of " doping." From personal know- 
ledge, however, as a pupil of Rarus, and from personal 
acquaintance with the late Professor Norris, and since with 
his son Mr. Stuart Norris, who is following in the foot- 
steps of his illustrious father in the training and exhibition 
of trick horses, I am positive in saying that there is abso- 
lutely no foundation in attributing to this " doping " theory 
the wonderful power of control which these men display. 

Let us see if an attempt to puzzle out or analyse this 
power will not result in establishing its source. We may 
start with the assumption that the numerous terms in com- 
mon use to define this power — *' charm," "gift," "per- 
sonal magnetism," "will power," "natural instinct" — go 
to show that its existence is recognised beyond doubt or 
question. An analogous power of control existing between 
man and man is familiar under the names of hypnotism, 
magnetism, mesmerism, or kindred mind-power manifesta- 
tions. All mind-power manifestation, under whatever name, 
is, I believe, subject to one universal condition, namely, con- 
sent. The resemblance between the terms generally adopted 
in attempting to describe the power that some men have over 
their mounts, and the terms by which we try to describe hyp- 
notism and other mind-power manifestations between men 
and men, is significant. One set of words applies just as fairly 
to the power some men are capable of exerting over some 
other men as they do to the powers which great animal-, 
tamers or our peculiarly gifted horsemen have over the 
animals they bend to their wills. That some men possess 



244 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

this power over animals and are unconscious of exerting it 
is no proof that the power does not exist. Hypnotism, 
though old in essence, is in practice very lately out of its 
infancy, yet making vast progress. Several physicians of 
my acquaintance are making use of it with most satisfac- 
tory results, even employing it in place of antiseptics when 
performing dental and surgical operations. So rapidly has 
this subject developed of late in the medical world that one 
of the most successful physicians of to-day says : " Within 
ten years from now no student of medicine will be consid- 
ered master of the profession unless he is able to command 
this power." If this mind power between man and man 
is the same as that between man and beast, we have proba- 
bly what may be termed a working hypothesis covering 
the whole field and reasonably accounting for many other- 
wise unaccountable things in the way of horsemanship. 

We noticed, under the subject of mind-power manifesta- 
tions as between man and man, that the one common fac- 
tor prevailing in all is consent, which has its parallel in the 
relation between man and beast, called by whatever name. 
In all hunting countries there is a saying that in order to be 
successful in horsemanship one must first get on good terms 
with one's mount. Getting on good terms with a horse is 
merely obtaining his consent to be governed. If these 
things be true, it brings us to the conclusion that this power 
emanates from the same source, whether exercised between 
man and man or between man and beast, and the working 
hypothesis we have set out to establish may be summed up 
as follows : ( i ) there exists a mind-power control between 
man and man; (2) there exists a mind-power control 



Mind-power Horsemanship 245 

between man and beast; and (3) the power of control is 
the same in both cases. 

This brings us to another point purposely omitted until 
now, namely, that while a person or a horse may be will- 
ing to be acted upon, the person seeking to control him 
must be desirous of doing so. In all hypnotic demonstra- 
tions there must be harmony, accord, or what the French 
term rapport. Further, this power, or desire, ( i ) exists in 
every person to a greater or less degree; (2) it is, like 
other faculties of the mind or body, subject to cultivation 
or development, and, like them, increases with use; (3) its 
manifestation is in a degree proportionate to the will of the 
one or the faith or confidence of the other. 

I shall not attempt to advance any evidence to sustain 
the theory of mind power in the case of man and man, as 
that is universally admitted. As to the power of control 
of man over animals, I may be pardoned for stating a few 
facts that have come under my observation. I once had 
for a stud-groom a North-of-Ireland man, Peters by name. 
He had very heavy hands and his seat was something 
shocking, on account of which I seldom permitted him to 
mount a colt or hunter. When, however, he did go out, 
I was always struck with the fact that he brought his horse 
home in better condition than any other groom I ever had. 
During all the years he was in my employ, I doubt if he 
ever struck one of the twelve stallions which during that 
time were under his entire charge. One of them, Mac- 
beth, a thoroughbred, was, as I learned after he came into 
my possession, a man-killer. He had killed one stable-man, 
and several others had had very narrow escapes from his 



246 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

vicious temper. I had an experience of my own to show 
that Macbeth had not improved in temper, when I was 
driving one day, with another man than Peters leading him 
behind a two-wheeled top-cart, to a stallion show at 
Geneseo. The vicious beast suddenly reared and struck 
both fore feet through the leather top of the cart, which 
was up at the time, evidently with most wicked intent, 
tipping over the trap and throwing us both into the road. 
The whole top of the cart was torn off, the stallion's feet 
fast tangled in the bows of the top. That we were not 
killed was no fault of the stallion. When, however, 
Peters arrived upon the scene, the savage beast, seemingly 
at a word, became as quiet as a lamb, allowing himself to be 
handled and led away by his groom under perfect control. 
Probably every one who has had much to do with horses 
can cite similar experiences from his own observation. 
Whence comes this power, this magic influence ? 

This interesting subject was first forcibly suggested to 
me by the actions of an old favourite driving-mare. She 
had been in my family many years, and, it is safe to say, 
had been in harness or under saddle on an average of once 
a day during all that time. A few years ago we began to 
notice that when Sunday came the old mare would turn of 
her own accord toward church, and that if I was going to 
a train she invariably turned in the direction of the station. 
Her usual errand to town was to the post-office, where she 
probably went nine times out of ten. The station re- 
quired a turn to the left, the church a turn to the right, 
while the post-office was farther on in a direct road. We 
have assigned many reasons for this seeming intelligence on 



Mind-power Horsemanship 247 

the part of the old mare, but none of them except that of 
the mind of the rider or driver's having some influence over 
her action fits all the circumstances. With this suggestion, 
I began one day to go over my experience in the saddle, and 
the education of colts and the schooling of hunters, and I 
came to the conclusion that this mind-power theory gives the 
only satisfactory answer to many knotty problems concern- 
ing horses and horsemanship. For instance, in hunting it 
is everywhere noticeable that, when ridden by some men, 
horses that are only soft green things or colts come out 
of a run in remarkably fresh condition as compared with 
some old seasoned hunters that are, as they say in England, 
** as hard as nails." Some heavy men, those who, for 
example, ride at a hundred and eighty or two hundred 
pounds, bring their horses in comparatively fresher than 
those ridden by lighter men and better riders. I am per- 
suaded that this better condition after a hard run cannot be 
accounted for by hands or seat. Again, it is the experience 
of some riders that they can ride a horse through a severe 
run with the least possible fatigue to themselves. I have 
always been rather shy about saying it, because it seemed 
contrary to reason ; but I am going to say it now : I can 
ride a horse fifty, sixty, or even seventy miles in a day, 
which shall include a run to hounds, and not feel more 
fatigued at the end than from a ride of ten, twelve, or 
eighteen miles in a carriage; and I find now and then a 
person who reports a similar experience. I believe this is 
owing to a mutual compensation between rider and horse. 
I have also remarked that when I watch a run from a 
carriage I go home quite worn out. I help, in imagina- 



24^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

tion, every horse I see jumping, that is to say, ride each 
one, mentally, just as if I were on his back. After an hour 
of this sort of riding I am quite fatigued. I believe that 
it is due to the fact that I have not actually had a horse 
under me from w^hom to receive the necessary compen- 
sation. 

May it not be this very power we have been discussing, 
more than " hands," that makes a horse stop pulling as soon 
as a person has been up long enough to obtain the animal's 
consent to be governed ? This is not, of course, to say that 
a man who has a bad seat and is all the time nagging at 
his horse's mouth can by the mere exercise of his will 
make his horse cease pulling. We hear everywhere 
" hands " called a gift, truly enough ; but may good hands 
not owe their existence more to a gift of mind power than 
to mere skill in handling ? May it not be owing to this 
mind-power control over animals that many lady riders 
have over their mounts what, in the absence of horseman- 
ship, we call a " charmed life " in the saddle ? 

We hear everywhere among hunting men a great deal 
about lifting one's horse at a jump, the expression, which 
is a common one, conveying the idea that this is done by 
an actual pull at the bit. Never was a more absurd notion 
entertained. One might as well say a man could climb a 
pole and pull the pole up after him. If the phrase, how- 
ever, means that by the mind power of control a man can 
assist a horse, I do not dispute it, for it seems to me that, 
from the very use of the expression so frequently, riders are 
conscious of rendering great assistance to a horse at the 
moment of going over a fence. It is by a lift, to be sure. 



Mind-power Horsemanship 249 

but by a lift of the will, or by the mind's power of control. 
In the case of the heavy-weights who in every hunt club 
get across country with more ease to themselves and to their 
mounts, and with less fatigue to both, than many of 
the lighter men, in spite of all sorts of reasons assigned, 
may not the truth be that such riders, conscious of their 
weight, in some way aid their horses by their mind's power 
of control ? 

I never yet met a hunting man, or any man who had 
much to do with horses, who did not believe that a rider, by 
losing his nerve at a fence, almost invariably caused his horse 
to refuse the jump. Conversely, if it is admitted that a horse 
can be influenced by fear in the mind of his rider, why 
should not the animal feel the effects of the opposite men- 
tal state, namely, confidence or courage on the part of his 
master ? What means can a horse possibly possess of feel- 
ing the state of his rider's mind which do not equally apply 
to the interpretation of any of the other power manifesta- 
tions we have mentioned ? 

The great T. Assheton Smith came very near hitting the 
nail on the head when he said: "Throw your heart over 
the fence, and your horse will follow it." I would respect- 
fully beg to amend that saying, in the light of mind-power 
control, by making it run : " Throw your horse over the 
fence, and stay with him the best way you can in the 
flight." 

We have attempted to show that there must be not only 
consent on the part of the mount, but will on the part of 
the rider, to insure control ; that some men can ride 
a horse as if he were an engine, the horse, in such a case. 



250 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

having no assistance whatever, since none can be had with- 
out the desire to give it. The next point is, how can one 
train a horse so as to have over him the power of control 
to which I refer ? I reply in two words — by confidence. 
Confidence presupposes consent. To obtain that end, there 
must be an entire absence of fear on the horse's part. I 
have not struck a horse or colt with a whip in fifteen years, 
except, perhaps, a crack of the crop when he was going at 
his fence in a shifty gait that showed he was in a change- 
able state of mind. 

In schooling a horse, there is nothing, as I said in the 
chapter on training, like throwing him down. It does not 
hurt him or frighten him, and from that moment he has 
the greatest respect for you, and begins to believe in you. 
He has seen a practical demonstration of your power. 
You are, in other words, obtaining his consent to be 
governed. 

In advancing a theory of mind-power horsemanship, I 
have given free rein to what is not, I am convinced, alto- 
gether fanciful speculation, in the hope that readers, once 
their attention is directed to the subject, may be induced 
to experiment on their own account. If the hypothesis 
stands the necessary tests, it may teach horsemen practical 
lessons, to the mutual advantage of themselves and their 
mounts. For myself, I believe that such a mind power of 
control does exist, in greater or less degree, in nearly every 
one, and is undoubtedly susceptible of cultivation. At any 
rate, when one considers its efficacy, as powerful as it is subtle 
in given instances, the least that can be said of it is that 
it is worth trying for. 



XXIII 
DRIVING TO HOUNDS 



" Oh, bear me, some kind power invisible. 
To that extended lawn where the gay court 
View the swift racers stretching to the goal! " 

SOMERVILLE 




XXIII 
DRIVING TO HOUNDS 

AN INTERESTING PASTIME THE DOCTOR AND THE LITTLE 

MARE A REMARKABLE SPILL 

BOOK of this kind would hardly be com- 
plete if it failed to mention an interesting if 
not an exciting feature of hunting ; that is, 
the viewing of the chase, or as much of it 
aTmay be possible, from carriages driven along the high- 
way. As most persons' introduction to hunting is accom- 
plished in this way, I venture to take a drive with my 
readers through such a first run, and I cannot better do 
this than by giving an account of my own first acquain- 
tance with the sport. 

Early in the eighties it was my good fortune to move 
into that beautiful and fertile section of country known as 
the Genesee Valley, and to see soon after a hunt for the 
first time in my life — the famous Genesee Valley Hunt, 
riding cross country to hounds. My ideas of fox-hunting 
had hitherto been of the vaguest. I remember thinking 
that all other ways than going after foxes with a gun must 
be unbecoming to a sportsman. 

My good friend the Doctor invited me one day to ride 

253 



2 54 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

out with him to see a fox-hunt. The thought of going 
hunting in a buggy was quite foreign to my ideas of sport, 
and I had less than half a heart in accepting the invitation. 
The Doctor, on the other hand, was brimful of enjoyment. 
He was not a riding man himself, the large rotundity of 
his figure forbidding any activity in the saddle, but a keener 
sportsman or a more enthusiastic one it would have been 
hard to find. The meet was at the Hermitage, and we 
were, unfortunately, too late to see the assembly. Hounds 
had gone on to draw the Hermitage Wood. The doctor 
was in a great state of agitation to think we had missed the 
meet. However, we drove down the farm lane behind 
the Fitzhugh manor-house, with a mere chance of their 
coming north. In the meantime the good Doctor expa- 
tiated to me on the subject of this " grand pack of hounds," 
this '* oldest hunt," " best horses," and ** best cross-country 
riders in America," working himself up to a higher and 
higher pitch because I responded only in the most indiffer- 
ent manner. He tried harder and harder to make me 
appreciate the splendid opportunity I was enjoying. All 
at once he brought his little black mare Kitty to a stand- 
still and listened. 

*' I hear them ! " he shouted, and stood up in his buggy 
— a little side-bar spider-like trap. I remember thinking 
what would the Doctor do on a runway after deer or wild 
turkey in the great forests of Michigan, if he made all this 
fuss over a fox. 

"I do believe they are coming this way!" cried the Doc- 
tor. ** Don't you hear them ?" 

"Sit down!" I cried, "or you will be out on your head." 



Driving to Hounds 235 

I hoped no one would see us, for surelv the Doctor 
would have been thought crazy or drunk, he was so 
completely transformed from his usual dignified manner. 
When he entered a patient's house or walked the streets he 
carried himself like a churchwarden taking the Sunday 
collection; yet, to see him now, one might have thought 
him a boy of eight waiting for his father to come home 
with fire-crackers and punk for a Fourth-of-July cele- 
bration. 

'* I believe they are coming this way ! " And again the 
Doctor stood up, and I looked round to see if any one 
could see us. 

** T hear them ! " he cried at last; and then he clutched 
me by the collar for support, and stood up on the cushion 
I expected everv moment to see him lose his balance and 
go headlong. It was a sight to make one tremble — two 
hundred and twenty-five pounds and six feet balancing 
itself on the cushions of a side-bar buggy and gesticulating 
wildly. 

*' Sit down ! " I cried. " Your mare will start and pitch 
you out." 

He stepped down at last, and called to his great pointer 
Sancho to jump into the waggon. There stood the little 
mare, with ears sharp ahead, and the pointer with his fore 
feet on the dash-board, looking first into the Doctor's face 
and then in the direction indicated by his extended 
finger. 

'* Here they come ! Here thev come ! " shouted the 
Doctor, as a dozen hounds came tumbling over the fence 
on the far side of a great level meadow. ** Here they 



256 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

come ! " And twenty couples or more came charging across 
the field, followed by thirty-five or forty riders. 

Instantly, I must confess, I was carried away with de- 
light. There could not be a prettier picture of a hunt. 
On came the hounds, heads down, working like pointers 
along the line across the field directly toward us. They 
were upon us in a moment, jumping from the field into 
the lane and out of the lane into another field within a few 
rods of where we stood. The Doctor put about, and away 
we raced little Kitty out of the lane, into the highway, 
and down the road on a dead run. The mud flew like 
sparks from a pin wheel twenty feet in every direction, 
plastering our backs. " No matter ; rub it off when it gets 
dry ! " cried the Doctor. *' We must have another view." 

Presently up behind us came Miss F with a friend, 

a lady, driving a pair of thoroughbreds harnessed to a buck- 
board, the horses running as fast as they could lay foot to 
the mud. The sight of these young ladies as they passed 
us, the lines lying loose on the backs of the charging 
steeds, was enough to electrify a stone. 

" That 's the sort ! " shouted the Doctor. " Go on ! " 

A smile and a nod, and away they flew again. The 
Doctor let out another link in the little mare's speed, and, 
be it said to the credit of the gamest bit of horse-flesh of 
her inches I ever saw, the little mare raced on for half a 
mile to the turn in the road to Mount Morris, setting the 
pace for Miss F 's thoroughbreds. 

A dozen carriages were waiting at this turn. The 
hounds were at fault only a moment, however, and finally 
crossed the Mount Morris road and went straight along 




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Driving to Hounds 257 

the east side of the river toward Geneseo. On rushed the 
Doctor, the pointer, with his fore feet still on the dash- 
board, barking at every one we passed. Crossing the high- 
way on to the Able farm, we saw three or four riders go to 
grass. On went the huntsmen. On went the carriages, 
strung out like a funeral procession for length, but all with 
horses galloping madly. And on raced the Doctor, until he 
headed the procession. I have been run away with several 
times, but I never again travelled so fast in a buggy as I 
did on this wild occasion. In jumping into the highway 
crossing the Geneseo road, some one with his horse's nose 
drawn down into his chest caught his mount's knees on 
the top rail and turned a complete somersault ; and inciden- 
tally I learned the most useful lesson to be taught in the 
hunting-field. It was plain even to my inexperienced eyes 
that the horse was thrown by its rider. 

On a little farther we assisted at an extraordinary per- 
formance, and brought our race to an end. A pair of 
farm-horses which were attached to a lumber-waggon 
with an empty box became frightened at all the hue and 
cry, and ran away toward Geneseo. They were flying 
along the edge of the beaten track just ahead of us, when 
suddenly, the right fore wheel striking a large stump on 
the side of the road, up went the box free of the waggon, 
described a somersault through the air, and landed on the 
ground with the farmer under it. The horses never halted. 
The Doctor and I, when we arrived at the overturned box, 
could hear the farmer underneath yelling like an Indian. 
We jumped out of our waggon, and on tipping up the box 
out came the farmer on his hands and knees, white as a 



258 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

sheet but not injured in the least. I record this as the 
most extraordinary thing I ever beheld, and as an exag- 
gerated instance of what one may see driving to the hunt. 

As for the Doctor and me, we were a rare sight. We 
dug the mud out of our necks and ears and eyes, and started 
for home, telling each other over and over again the events 
of the day. The gamy little mare that drew us came in 
for no small share of our comments. There would come a 
pause, when the Doctor's face would kindle and he would 
break out laughing again with: "But how the little 
mare did go ! " 

Thus ended my first drive to hounds. Needless to say, 
it was not long before I had out a saddle and began prac- 
tising jumping on my own account. I got a saddle on a 
driving-horse back on the farm, and had my first jumping 
lessons out of sight. My early training at bareback riding 
stood me in good stead, and before I was much older I 
was by way of becoming a hunting man myself. I practised 
with more and more enthusiasm till my good wife heard of 
my doings and interposed. 

" Now you must promise," she protested, " you will 
never ride in the hunts." 

A hand clinched each lapel of my coat persuadingly, 
and after some hedging I found I had no alternative but 
to promise. 

I took her to see a run herself one day not long after, and 
my lady was enthusiastic. " What beautiful horses ! " she 
exclaimed. " I wish you had one for me to ride." I prom- 
ised readily to get one. Fortunately we had seen no falls. 
" Ah, if I were a man," she declared, *' I should have to ride." 



Driving to Hounds 250 

I suggested warily that although she was not a man I 
was, and that — 

" Now stop," she interrupted. " I believe this is all a 
trap just to get my consent." 

" It 's a trap, maybe, but you Ve walked into it unassisted, 
Madame," I had the pleasure of retorting. May every 
married man succeed as easily as I did in getting his wife's 
consent to his hunting ! 

I never forgot, however, the excitement and interest of 
driving to hounds, which can be recommended as rare sport 
and diversion for all who for any reason cannot ride. It 
affords one an abundance of exciting spectacle and, if one 
iceeps an eye alert, not a little instruction in the points, both 
major and minor, of cross-country riding. 



XXIV 

OFFICERS AND HUNT ASSISTANTS 



"The huntsman in front on the bay 

Flies on like a boy at his play. 
He counts the good pack speeding over the plain. 
And grins as he looks for a skirter in vain. 
He says to the whip, * They are at it again. 

Hark forrard, hark forrard away.' " 

POEMS IN PINK 




XXIV 
OFFICERS AND HUNT ASSISTANTS 

THE M.F.H. THE HUNTSMAN THE WHIPPERS-IN THE KENNEL 

HUNTSMAN THE EARTH-STOPPER 

HE office of Master of Foxhounds has never 
reached the exalted rank in America that it 
has in England, but the duties of the office 
are for the most part the same in both coun- 
tries. Few people, even a large number of those who ride 
to hounds, have more than a confused idea of what these du- 
ties are. Enough has already been said on the question of 
the breeding and management of hounds to show that in this 
field alone they are no trifling matter. In addition there is 
the oversight of the breeding of horses, invariably accom- 
panying an established hunt, as well as many social duties 
and a large correspondence. There are also the various 
executive duties involved in the administration of hunt 
affairs. The enormous expenses of at least one hunt in 
America are borne by the M.F.H. , who not only owns 
the hounds, but pays all the bills involved in running the 
stud and kennels, the members of the hunt paying only a 
dollar a year each. The expense of a hunt club cannot 
come far short of five hundred dollars for every day that 
hounds hunt. 

263 



264 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

Enough has also been said about horse-breeding to show 
that ahhough it is in no way to be compared with hound- 
breedins: it is no small item in the account where the 
Master undertakes not only to provide himself but also the 
huntsman and whippers-in with mounts — three or four each 
— and have half a dozen extra horses for bye-days and for 
friends and guests. No one who has seen an M.F.H. in the 
full discharge of his social and official capacities, or recalls 
what he has done in the breeding and development of the 
hound and the management of the pack, can fail to appreciate 
* his labours or help being stimulated to make them as light 
as possible. We shall see the Master in his official capa- 
city at the consultation of war and at the covert-side, and 
at the meet as well as at the hunt dinner in his social aspects. 

Of the huntsman it has been said that '' from the fox 
he learns cunning, from the hounds sagacity," which indi- 
cates the combination of qualities necessary in him. Occa- 
sionally a Master hunts his own hounds, but more often a 
salaried huntsman is employed, one whose long years of 
experience as whipper-in make him a past master in the 
art. His qualifications, like those of the hounds that assist 
him and the horse that carries him, are of a high order. 
He plays against the craftiest and longest-headed animal of 
field or forest. Every plot of cunning Renard to elude his 
pursuers the huntsman must meet with a counter-plot. 
He must have the woodcraft, the ear and nose, of an Indian. 

Most huntsmen, we believe, prefer to approach covert 
"down-wind," for two reasons: first, since no sportsman 
wishes to have a fox "chopped" in covert, to give the 
fox timely warning ; second, because, while a fox is a very 



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officers and Hunt Assistants 265 

timid animal and almost anything turns his course once 
he is on the way, he hates to break covert, and will often 
return to it even if he has to run among the riders and the 
hounds themselves to accomplish his purpose. In the 
former case, of course our huntsman has sent the first 
whipper-in ahead to take up a position on the opposite 
side of the covert in the best position attainable to view a 
fox away when he breaks. Approaching covert down- 
wind also affords him an opportunity to go away in the 
other direction, — up-wind, — which, giving him more 
timely warning of approaching danger, is his natural way 
of travelling. Leaving very little scent behind him when 
he begins to travel and when sleeping quietly, the fox 
seems to know that hounds may fairly run over him with- 
out detecting him, and the huntsman finds it very impor- 
tant to make the best of a light scent on a day when scent 
is likely to be poor. In such cases the covert is drawn up- 
wind, to get the hounds as close on their fox as possible. 
It is considered justifiable by most huntsmen, when the 
first whipper-in or a rider views away a fox under such con- 
ditions, to " lift " the hounds on, out of covert, as quickly, 
and lay them to the line as far ahead, as possible. The 
fox may have broken covert up-wind, but it is only a mat- 
ter of time when he turns short down-wind, probably 
owing to his being persuaded that since he really is pur- 
sued, it is the better part of valour to trust to luck for what 
may be ahead and put himself sharp down-wind in order 
to keep the longest ear to the hounds and what is coming 
after. A fox is crafty in this also, that he dislikes being 
made to do anything not in his first matured plan. This 



266 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

usually is to reach security in the nearest earth or covert, 
and therefore in changing his course down-wind he runs 
at a distance determined by the extreme limit of his hearing 
powers. Then when hounds check he can generally stop 
running, and if not pressed turn at last to make the point 
he had in mind when he left covert. It is for this reason 
knowing riders when they arrive at covert take up a posi- 
tion, if possible, on the down-wind side, especially if Ren- 
ard went away at all across the wind ; — all of which goes 
to show that a huntsman must form quickly an idea of the 
plans working in the mind of his hunted fox. The con- 
clusions to be drawn from the way he left covert ; from the 
scent in the first few fields ; from his age, sex, and condi- 
tion for running ; from a hundred and one things a novice 
would never think of looking for, must be to him an 
open book. 

A keen huntsman, from the characteristics of every 
hound in the pack, learns in the first half-hour much as to 
the special tactics he will have to deal with in his fox. 
Perhaps the fox is a " ringer," one the huntsman thinks 
he has chased before, since his plan is identical with the 
last one they chased from this same covert and lost ; and 
he is ready, from experience, with his counter-plot. Thomas 
Smith gives an account of a huntsman who, on finding he 
was for a second or third time after a ringer, stopped the 
hounds, went the other way around, and met Mr. Renard 
face to face. They viewed him away, and in due time he 
was sent to the land of his fathers. An experienced hunts- 
man seems to know instinctively when the hounds are at 
fault. 



officers and Hunt Assistants 267 

After the manner of chess-players, Renard and the 
huntsman first try the ordinary moves of the game, such as, 
on Renard's part, running in rings, or trying for some 
open earth he knows. In this case the earth-stopper also 
knows about them, and, directed by the huntsman, has been 
there during the night — while Renard prowled the country 
— and stopped them. Again, if Renard runs to and finds 
an open earth, especially in the beginning of a run, he may 
not really enter it to stay : he would like, of all things, to 
have the hunt stop and dig him out when he is miles away. 
In this case the huntsman's move is a wide, careful cast 
about the earth till the hounds discover the line again and 
are off. These are preliminary moves. Later in the game 
he will break straight away for some distant covert where 
he knows for a certainty a particular fox, a friend of his, 
always kennels in the day. With a wink of " the other eye," 
he flourishes his brush at the hounds and sails straight for 
that particular covert. Awaking his friend from a sound 
sleep, he gives him an account of a thousand hounds that 
are coming after, says he just dropped in to give a timely 
warning to run for life, and away also goes his friend, the 
first hunted fox slipping quietly to one side and lying down 
to rest. It is an old move and has worked beautifully on 
many occasions. But the huntsman also knows a thing or 
two ; he has noted that the older hounds hesitated at a certain 
point, while the younger ones took up the line. This can 
have only one interpretation. "Toot-toot!" he goes on 
his horn, and the whippers-in are off like shot out of a gun 
to head ofl^ the pack and turn them back to where the 
huntsman calls them. 



268 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

**Get back, Browso! Back, Smuggler!" shout the 
whippers-in, with much cracking of their double thongs. 

The instant the hounds are collected, the huntsman 
takes them back to the point where the older hounds hesi- 
tated. Sure enough ! Tinbush hits off the line of the 
hunted fox with a cry of joy that brings every hound to 
her side. Away they go again, making the forest echo 
with the clamour of their musical tongues. 

Meanwhile Renard has been having a rest, enjoying his 
laugh at the hounds and his good joke on his friend. Now 
he hears the pack returning, and begins to realise his scheme 
has failed. Yet he has caused a check and recovered his 
second wind. With another flourish of his brush, another 
knowing look, he steals away along the furrow of a half- 
ploughed field. On goes the chase. Again the hounds are 
getting too near for comfort. Renard now stops, jumps as 
wide as he can to the right, runs on a little way, and lies 
down again; or runs back in the very tracks he came in. 
The hounds coming on at a fearful pace go a hundred 
yards or more over the end of the line. Their heads go 
up, their music ceases. Again they are at a check. But 
the huntsman, not checkmated yet by any means, recalls that 
a little way back Bluebells made a sharp fling to the right. 
He said "I thought so" perhaps, at the time, but always 
lets his hounds make their own cast first to see what they 
can do without his assistance. He blows his horn again, 
and, with a wide cast back to where Bluebells made her 
drive to the right, the pack again hits off the line. Again 
Mr. Renard says, " Good day, gentlemen ; I see I must be 
moving," and trots off in a leisurely way until he hears the 
pack once more upon his line in full cry. 




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officers and Hunt Assistants 269 

Now he runs through a field where cattle or sheep are 
feeding, to destroy his line by entangling it with the scent 
of the tramping beasts. When a check occurs under such 
circumstances as this the huntsman is considered justified in 
lifting his hounds smartly forward. It is only another trial 
of his judgment. In all the confusion, which way has the 
fox gone ? Thanks to experience and the quick hint of 
instinct, the huntsman in most cases knows to a certainty. 
Once more he brings order out of chaos, and hounds are 
again settled to the line. Now the moves in the game are 
made more rapidly, and Renard, growing more tired, has 
less choice where to turn. He takes to water, swimming 
the brook with the hounds close behind him. Ten minutes 
more of riding, and then Bluebells, Forrester, Bunco, Tinbush, 
the oldest and trustiest noses in the pack, who, like the wise 
old hound in Somerville's Chase, have until now been 
hanging in the rear, " niggards of their strength," are seen 
charging to the front with renewed energy. The hunts- 
man knows the end is near. The fox's strength is sinking. 
The scent grows weaker, and only the older hounds can 
follow it — eagerly, to be sure, since they know by experience 
what its weakness portends. 

Now, if never before during the game, must the hunts- 
man have his wits about him. More foxes are lost when 
they are dead tired, especially with a fast pack of hounds, 
than are captured. At such times Renard makes his last 
trick move against the hounds under their very noses, 
and if it were not for the woodcraft of the huntsman 
would get away nine times in ten. There is another check 
of all the hounds, save old Bluebells and Forrester. The 
huntsman plunges ahead, for not an instant is to be lost with 



270 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

a sinking fox. He leaves the whippers-in to bring on the 
pack the best they know how, and rides on madly, cheer- 
ing to his two faithful hounds. A check again : as they come 
out of a bit of woodland into more open country, even 
Bluebells and Forrester can follow no farther. Where is 
Renard gone ? West ? No ; a man is ploughing over 
there. East ? No ; a man and a dog are quietly crossing 
a field in that direction, or a timber-waggon is passing 
along the highway. Whatever our huntsman does, he 
takes in the whole situation at one sweeping glance, and 
his mind is made up instantly. Ah ! He hears a jay-bird 
making an unusual tumult in yonder piece of wood : his 
fox is passing near it. Or the crows are seen a quarter of 
a mile away making a swoop toward the earth : they are 
mobbing the tired fox. Or, again, in a still more distant 
field a flock of sheep are standing with heads up and faces 
all in one direction : Mr. Renard is no doubt just passing 
there. 

So the game goes on, plot against counter-plot, cunning 
against woodcraft, until the crafty fox wins at last or the 
hounds have accounted for him by tracking him to earth. 
It needs little more, certainly, to show the reader how 
important the huntsman is in the game. What we have 
seen him do, however, is not the half of what he is expected 
to do and know. It goes without saying, too, that he 
must be a very superior horseman and an accomplished 
rider, and know every nook, corner, ditch, and ravine of 
every farm for twenty miles around. 

The duties of whippers-in are, speaking in a general 
way, to assist the huntsman in the management of the 



officers and Hunt Assistants 271 

hounds. The special duties of the first whipper-in are 
hardly less important than those of the huntsman. Indeed, 
some Masters declare that if they could have but one high- 
class man with hounds they would prefer that man to be 
the first whipper-in rather than the huntsman. 

The first whipper-in must needs be everywhere, nor 
spare himself or his mount. He must keep to hounds, and 
this necessity alone requires him to follow them over almost 
impossible obstacles. He is obliged to ride many more 
miles during a run than any other man in the hunt, and 
altogether must be a most efficient rider and without 
fear. His function at the covert-side is to go ahead and 
station himself in such a position as will enable him to 
view the fox away. The second whipper-in usually 
accompanies the huntsman into covert to keep the hounds 
together, prevent their running riot, and see when the fox 
finally breaks that they are all brought on to the line. 
The correcting of hounds falls principally to him, the 
huntsman himself being a sort of shelter to which a hound 
turns instantly he is chastised. The second whipper-in 
must be not only a fearless rider, but a thorough horseman, 
too, riding always to save his horse. 

Another important officer of a hunt is the kennel hunts- 
man, usually the huntsman himself or some one grown old 
in the service of the hunt. On the kennel huntsman rests 
a responsibility scarcely less grave than that of the hunts- 
man or the Master. We treat of him here as a distinct 
and separate officer. 

The Master directs the selecting and breeding of hounds, 
but kennel management depends upon the kennel hunts- 



272 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

man's ability to carry out the Master's plans. The feeding 
of thirty or fifty couples of hounds is no small matter. To 
keep them all healthy, to doctor the ailing, nurse the 
invalids, bandage the wounded, care for the bitches in 
whelp, for the puppies at birth and in the trying age of 
distemper, requires a man particularly fitted and qualified. 
There are, further, the conditioning of hounds as the hunt- 
ing season approaches, special supervision while they are 
hunting, and the keeping of the peace among them at all 
times — no light matter. 

According to Badminton, in hunting five days in a week, 
as many packs do in England, seventy-five couples of hounds 
are required ; for four days a week, fifty-two couples ; two 
days a week, twenty-eight couples. The annual consump- 
tion of food for seventy-five couples is ^' forty tons of oatmeal, 
three tons of dog-biscuits, and a hundred and fifty horses." 
These figures may go to show further the responsibility of 
the officer in charge of kennels and their inmates. The 
right apportionment of food is a delicate business. Over- 
training may develope temper and jealousy and other dis- 
agreeable traits. Altogether hounds need as much watching 
and care as a lot of children would. Tinbush and Rol- 
licker hate each other ; an old feud exists between them. 
Tinbush snaps at a puppy, and RoUicker comes in, think- 
ing now is his time to pay off an old grudge. Bradshaw, 
the peacemaker, attempts to correct them both, and in half 
a minute a dozen hounds are fighting to the death. These 
battles are sometimes very desperate, and it takes a cou- 
rageous man to go among the combatants. More than one 
kennel huntsman has nearly lost his life in attempting to 



officers and Hunt Assistants 273 

settle these disputes when once the blood of the pack 
is up. 

The earth-stopper is usually some old faithful hunt ser- 
vant who has seen better days, possibly an assistant about 
the kennels. In England he is generally a superannuated 
gamekeeper. He is invariably something of a " character," 
and knows, or has the air of knowing, more about foxes 
and their ways and about hunting generally than most of 
the men who ride to hounds. During the summer months 
he and his pony tramp the country for miles around. He 
knows every earth and every litter of foxes within a 
radius of twenty miles or more of the kennels, and will 
tell you which farmers preserve the litters and which 
trap them. 

When, on the evening before a meet, the huntsman and 
the Master have held a council of war and decided on what 
particular covert they will draw, the earth-stopper is 
instructed accordingly; and soon after midnight, when the 
foxes are prowling about in search of food, he mounts his 
pony, and, with a lantern on his arm and a shovel in his 
hand or slung on his back, goes the rounds of all the 
earths in the neighbourhood of the covert proposed to be 
drawn on the morrow. Arriving at an earth, he collects, 
or has collected on the way, a bundle of sticks two feet or 
more in length. These he binds together with a withe, 
and crowds them into the earth, usually throwing upon 
them a light covering of loam, his task sometimes requir- 
ing half the night and a ride of twenty-five or thirty miles. 
After the hunt he goes out and unstops them again, unless 
for some reason it is thought best to keep them closed. 



2 74 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

These nocturnal reconnoitrings of an old earth-stopper are 
the cause of his reflective turn of mind, probably, and help 
to fill his brain with the lore and opinions that make him 
so interesting a person, in winter nights or other leisure 
times, with whom to talk it all over. 



XXV 
HORSE COMPANIONSHIP 



" A nature so noble, so generous and kind. 
Can only be meant for a man with a mind; 
A nature like this is intended to blend 
With minds that are high, and be counted a friend." 

POEMS IN PINK 




XXV 
HORSE COMPANIONSHIP 

love of animals advice to beginners a long list of 

" don'ts " 

HAVE had a great deal to say about confi- 
dence and companionship between rider and 
mount, which I have declared to be better 
understood in England than in America. 
The average American seems to look upon a horse as sim- 
ply a convenience, like the bicycle or the trolley cars, a 
means by which he may reach his destination sooner and 
with less fatigue than by walking. He presses a button 
and the horse is brought to the door, and when he is 
through with him a groom takes him away again. The 
horse does not attain to the confidence of his master as he 
does in England, where he becomes part of the family. 
There is nothing degrading in the idea of companionship 
with a horse. When one comes to think of it, many men 
and some women not infrequently have about them less 
edifying associates of their own kind. No man, woman, or 
child was ever the worse for an intimate association with a 
well-bred horse or dog. 

It cannot be too much insisted on that this companion- 

277 



278 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

ship between horse and rider is the very essence of cross- 
country riding. Whoever has failed to secure the confidence 
of his mount and his mount's in himself has failed of enjoy- 
ing the best half of the game. The right sort of man, 
even if he may hardly be feeling well enough for a day's 
hunting, will go out rather than deprive his horse of the 
pleasure — a bit of self-sacrifice which sometimes happens 
in England, unusual as it may be on the other side of the 
Atlantic. The love of animals, especially of horses, is born 
and bred in the English people. Unlike some Americans, 
they one and all care enough for a horse that has given 
them a most glorious day's sport to stay at the stable and 
see him done up properly and fed before they dine them- 
selves. In England the children are brought up from 
infancy to consider the feelings of all domestic animals. 
An old favourite mare soon to have a foal is talked over 
again and again, and the expectant mother has the best of 
care. Love and respect increase as the eventful time ap- 
proaches. She is turned out on the lawn in front of the 
house, where the grasses are tenderest and sweetest, and the 
best of everything is none too good for her. The children 
divide with her their candy ; the baby is held up and taught 
to caress and love her. The dear old mare's matronly 
appearance is never a cause of shame, but of pride, and 
when at last she has produced her foal, the entire family, 
down to nurse and the baby, must all go down to the 
stable to see it. With such instincts, is it any wonder that 
Englishmen and Englishwomen love a horse? Is it any 
wonder that there exists between an English rider and his 
mount a potent feeling of companionship? Is it any cause 




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Horse Companionship 279 

for question why in England and Scotland there are a 
hundred and thirty-eight packs of hounds ? Need one long 
inquire why this sport has such a powerful hold that it is 
followed unceasingly through youth, manhood, and old 
age? 

I recur to this favourite text by way, in this chapter, of 
advice to beginners and a little confidential talk with the 
novice reader. Suppose he is to ride to hounds to-morrow 
for the first time; there will be some things he ought to 
do, and more that he ought not. Some of the things I 
have reminded him of already in a general way are consid- 
ered of sufficient importance to be repeated here. The 
chapter by no means comprises the whole list of things he 
ought or ought not to do, but only the mistakes a beginner 
is most likely to fall into. 

Of course he will dress well. An affected disregard for 
dress on such occasions is even more vulgar than foppish- 
ness. If he must wear spurs, let him use them only in case 
of emergency. The better a man's horsemanship, the less 
use he has for spurs. If his experience is mine he will 
find his horse going much better, jumping much more col- 
lectedly, more intelligently, and with less fatigue if spurs 
never touch him, especially at a jump. Also I should say 
to him, don't wear a new pair of gloves, and don't carry a 
new hunting-crop. The former is uncomfortable, and, with ' 
the latter, makes one look too specially " gotten up." His 
dress, however neat or expensive, should have the stamp of 
utility. 

Don't ask the Master, the huntsman, or the whippers-in, at 
the meet, what covert they are going to draw. They never 



2 8o Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

like to be questioned on this subject or any other pertain- 
ing to the hunt. 

Don't ride through any coverts or fields at all in going 
to the meet. A day's sport may be spoiled by setting the 
foxes on foot in the very wood the Master intends to have 
drawn. 

Don't call a hound a dog. There could hardly be a worse 
offence in the opinion of the Master or huntsman. " What 
a pretty lot of dogs ! " said a novice from Boston to our 
Master, one day at the meet. "They are" — looking 
them over critically — *' the best lot I have ever seen 
together ; ought to send them to the Show." 

" What dogs do you refer to ? " asked the Master, who 
was at the moment standing by his mount, with twenty- 
odd couple of his best hounds about him, preparatory to 
going to covert. 

" Why, these dogs ; the ones you chase the fox with." 

" Oh, you mean the hounds^' replied the M.F.H., with 
a coldness that would have frozen ice-cream, and with a 
strong emphasis on the word hounds. " Hounds hunt the 
fox. The chasing is done by the rider s'' Most masters 
are very touchy on this point. 

Neither speak of a hound as being pretty. He is beauti- 
ful, if you like, but only ladies are permitted to call him 
pretty — and such ladies only as can lay claim to that dis- 
tinction themselves. 

Don't ride near the hounds. Shun them when you are 
on horseback as you would Satan himself. If they over- 
take you riding to covert, go quickly to one side and let 
them pass. Remember that this is the greatest offence a 



Horse Companionship 281 

rider to hounds can commit. I have heard such offenders 
given the severest verbal drubbings I ever listened to. I 
remember hearing a perfect climax of rage and fury in this 
respect once at a meet in England, when one of these jeal- 
ous hard-riding scoundrels actually ran his horse into a hound 
at the covert-side. The Master jumped off his horse. He 
could evidently deliver himself better standing. " Take 
yourself out of the hunt!" he cried. "You did this same 
thing once befDre. I ought to throw you into the river. 
Hounds running ? You are a liar, sir ! " (The fox had 
been viewed away, but hounds were not yet on the line.) 
" You fool ! You don't know enough to be out hunting. 
You don't know enough to know when hounds are run- 
ning. Pay for the hound ? You insulting puppy, you 
have n't money enough to compensate for the injury to that 
poor hound." (Two men were carrying the howling 
hound to a friend's carriage.) " Get out of my sight, you 
miserable good-for-nothing, and all your kind. Go hire a 
race-track and ride your fill. You don't know the ABC 
of hunting, and you never will. Leave my sight and this 
field instantly, sir, or the hounds go straight back to ken- 
nels. This is your second offence, sir, inside of a fortnight. 
You can't hold your horse ? Then shoot him, sir ! Such 
brutes ought never to be permitted to come hunting. 
Any one but a fool would have had sense enough to know 
it. Go home and shoot him. And then shoot yourself 
rather than again be seen in a hunting-field. You are dis- 
graced for life. You and all your kind are the curse of 
hunting. You kill sport. You know neither how to 
hunt nor how to ride." — It was quite the worst talk- 



282 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

ing to a man ever got, but the Master was perfectly justi- 
fied. There were probably a dozen more " threshing 
scoundrels " who were getting the lecture second-hand. 
A story is told of an M.F.H. who used to ask his second 
whipper-in to ride up close to some rider who had offendeH 
against this " holy law," whereupon the Master would give 
the whipper-in a stiff scolding for having done what the 
rider could not then fail to see he had done himself. 
When a man rides near hounds he runs them " off their 
noses." They are looking behind to keep out of his way. 

The value of hounds in the eyes of the Master and hunts- 
man cannot be estimated in dollars and cents. The loss of 
a hound in this way is most discouraging to a Master who, 
as is often the case, owns the hounds and feeds and cares 
for them at his own expense. The expenses of a first-class 
hunt establishment in England amount to something like 
two thousand dollars a hunt week.* Picture, then, the 
feelings of an M.F.H. who sees a thoughtless, heedless 
rider spoiling sport. Is it any wonder he loses patience 
and his temper as well ? The one great drawback to hunt- 
ing, the one thing above all others that gives the Master 
annoyance, is the jealous riding man. Men who are out 
to cut down the field are the principal offenders in this re- 
spect. 

Don't ride up to the huntsman or whippers-in on the 
way to covert unless you are asked. Keep away. 

Don't call the whipper-in a whip. It is as bad as to 
call Mr. Soper Soap. — 

* The Master of the Grafton hounds receives in subscriptions ^^8000, and has to 
add to this sum out of his own pocket ;i^3000 annually to make up the deficit. 



Horse Companionship 283 

"Hello, Whip; where are you bound for?" No answer. 
"I say, Whip, where are you going next?" "I beg 
pardon, sir; I thought you were addressing your remarks 
to your hunting-crop," comes the reply at last. 

Don't ask questions as to what is to be done next. You 
are out not to chase a ball across a field, but to himt. 
It is passing strange that some men never see the thing m 
this light. It is as rude to ask a huntsman what he is 
going to do next as it would be to lean over the shoulder 
of a professional chess-player and ask him what move he is 
going to make next. The probabilities are the huntsman 
does not know himself; if he did, he would not be hesitat- 
ing. He may be waiting for some hounds that are left in 
covert, and if he should answer the question he might be 
asked next how it happened the hounds were left. How 
many times has one seen a huntsman move out of a rider's 
way whom he saw approaching with questions in his eye ! 
"Won't you have a cigar, huntsman?" said a novice 
once in my hearing. The huntsman of course does n't like 
to be rude, but such a thing can annoy him wonderfully. 
Fancy a huntsman smoking a cigar while hunting a fox ! 

Don't take any man who is out for the ride for your 
pilot, nor the huntsman nor whippers-in. The first sees 
little and cares less for the hunting, being there only to 
outride some other hard rider; and the huntsman or 
whippers-in would be seriously annoyed. Let the pack be 
your pilot; keep the hounds in sight. If they turn right 
or left you are in the best possible position to cut corners, 
fences permitting. You will see everything and be in at 
the death with a single horse, while the hard-riding men 



284 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

have seen little or nothing of the game and have done their 
second horse to a turn. 

Ride always to save your horse. That is horsemanship. 
It is far more to your credit to come in to the death with a 
comparatively fresh horse, having ridden the line, than to 
do the first flight or steeplechase act. Riding a steeple- 
chase between the fags is one thing. Fox-hunting is another 
thing altogether. If you have no interest in anything but 
the galloping part of the game, join a drag-hunt or hire a 
race-course and have done with it. You can hardly please 
the Master or huntsman more than to keep out of the 
game altogether. You might as well, in playing base-ball, 
take no interest in the game apart from racing the other 
fellows round the bases for the home plate. The principle 
would be precisely the same. 

Don't take it upon yourself to advise a huntsman, even if 
you feel sure he is going wrong. Let him manage the 
hounds to suit himself. When the game is over, look him 
up and ask him why he drew one covert up-wind and the 
next one down, or any other question you like. You will 
be surprised at his wonderful fund of woodcraft, and will 
find that he is as ready to talk to you now as you are to 
listen. You will probably see that had he done what you 
thought he ought to have done, he would have lost his 
fox. He generally knows all that you do and a great deal 
more. Never presume to advise in the field; even the 
Master of Hounds himself never meddles with the game 
after hounds throw off. "I think the huntsman is wrong 
this time," you may say to the Master. "I think so myself," 
says the Master, "but he is hunting the hounds, and we 



Horse Companionship 285 

must let him and the hounds cipher it out in their own 

way." 

Don't lark your horse over fences in the presence of the 
hunting-field. It is the work of a horse-dealer, or a very 
swell-headed rider who wishes to display himself. 

Don't ride about on a steaming horse anywhere near 
hounds when at a check. The perspiring horse will foil 
the line for rods about. Jump off, if only for a minute, 
and rest your horse. Think how it would be with your- 
self, carrying even a very light parcel, if you could not 
change it to the other hand or set it down a moment. It 
may seem strange to some of my readers that I should men- 
tion so evident a fact, but city men as a rule are great 
offenders in just these nice points of horsemanship. 

Don't allow your horse to rush his fences if it is within 
your power to control him. If you cannot hold him, sell 
him, or send him to the plough. Such a horse has no 
business in the hunting-field. It is a sure sign of funk in 
yourself or your horse, or both. Perhaps he is not properly 
ridden, as I suggested before, and his rushing comes from 
the punishment you give him by pulling at his mouth or 
spurring him at every jump. In any case, it is probably 
the rider's fault. 

Don't follow some daredevil rider over barbed-wire 
fences or any other unreasonable obstacles. He has done 
it to show off. Either his hunting-flask put him up to it, 
or he is one of those empty-headed fellows who court 
admiration. It is as vulgar as it is unhorsemanlike. You 
had better be called a coward by all such fellows than an 
" empty-headed ass " by the Master. I have said so much 



2 86 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

about giving your horse his head at his jumps that I need 
only remind you here that it is the highest accompHshment 
in the art of cross-country riding to have so perfect a seat 
that you can give your horse freedom of his head at his 
jumps. Don't be discouraged. Keep at it, and ever at it, 
until you succeed. No man can ever hope to become thor- 
oughly proficient in cross-country riding until he can ride a 
horse over jumps entirely independent of the bridle-reins. 
If you forget everything else this book contains, remember 
this. 

Don't forget to bring your best manners with you into 
the hunting-field. No matter what your station in life 
may be, when you are playing the game put yourself on a 
level with the humblest member. Among sportsmen play 
a sportsman's game. Snobbishness in the hunting-field is 
disgusting. 

Don't neglect to say a kind word to the farmers. Take 
off your hat to any man in the game who shows a better 
seat, better hands, or better horsemanship than your own. 
You need not be surprised to find such a man riding in a 
rusty coat, a sportsman indeed, and your superior at the 
game. If you are a true sportsman too, you will be the 
first to acknowledge his superiority. Let not the novice 
follow the snob's too common example in the hunting- 
field. After once visiting a neighbouring hunt club he 
should desire to be thoroughly welcomed by every member 
when he comes again. 

Don't be seen pulling at your flask : it causes uncompli- 
mentary remarks, especially if you get a fall afterward. 

Don't offer it to a brother sportsman ; it may mean a 



Horse Companionship 287 

drop too much. Jumping-powder makes the reckless fool- 
hardy. The worst accident I ever saw in the hunting- 
field was the result of one flask rider daring a rider with an 
empty flask to jump a picket fence on the road home after 
a severe run to hounds. " Good ! I '11 go you for a fiver. 
Go ahead." Over went the leader, his mount rapping the 
fence heavily with every leg. After him went Empty-flask, 
against every one's remonstrance, setting both rowels into 
his horse's sides as he reached the fence. We held our 
breath till he should be over. But no ! Empty-flask's 
stimulus had done its work, and its effects were on the 
wane. With a sluggish swerve of the body forward and a 
violent pull at the bridle-reins to regain his position, the 
wicked spurs fairly doubled and shut his horse up instead of 
extending him. Smash ! went the fence, the horse taking 
it breast-high. Smash ! went Empty-flask headlong to the 
ground in a soggy, senseless heap, and there lay till his 
mount turned a complete somersault upon him, and began 
threshing wildly with his legs, the unconscious rider's spurs 
digging into him at every move. 

" The spurs did it," said one. 

" His horse was done," said another. " Reaction against 
too much stimulants," was what they thought. 

" I '11 never offer a flask to a man in the hunting-field 
again as long as I live," said the fallen rider's friend. 

" You don't mean to say he was drunk ? " 

" No ; only the stimulant had shot its bolt. It was a 
broken leg for a drop too much." — 

Don't scold a groom in the presence of a third person. 

Don't lose your temper with any horse, no matter what 



288 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

he does. If he gets out of patience, it is nine to one the 
fault is with yourself. If he does n't know how, send 
him to school. If he can't or won't learn, send him to the 
plough. 

Don't take the least advantage of your mount. There 
must never be any question of your right to govern, but the 
man that governs least is best obeyed. 

Don't ask a horse to do fractions until he can add and 
subtract. 

Don't mount any horse, for any purpose, until you have 
examined the set of his bridle and bits. Grooms are care- 
less about not altering bridles to fit different horses. See 
that the snaffle is just low enough not to wrinkle the lips, 
and that the curb hangs easily and naturally below it. 
Look to the curb-chain and keep it well let out. Nine 
grooms out of ten get it too short. Look to the throat- 
latch ; let it out so that there is no question of its not being 
perfectly loose ; and treat the nose-band in the same way. 
These are little things, but they annoy a sensitive high-bred 
horse and make him irritable and cross with you. It is 
too bad to spoil a good day's sport for a good man and a 
good horse simply because the bridle does n't fit. With a 
cold-blooded draught-horse it may make little difference, 
but a high-bred horse, especially if he is a little over-fit, is 
as sensitive as a baby to pain or discomfort. You would 
not be comfortable yourself with a collar-button rasping 
your neck. 

Don't have your girths too tight at first. This is another 
point where grooms are commonly at fault. A tight girth 
irritates some horses, and you upset their tempers and get 



Horse Companionship 289 

into a fight with them before you are fairly started. If 
the horse is light-waisted, ride him with a hunting breast- 
strap. When you reach the covert-side, take your girths 
up a hole, if necessary, while sitting in the saddle.* If your 
mount has the proper conformation you need have little 
fear of a saddle turning. 

Don't choke yourself with a stock, a tight-fitting coat or 
boots. These things make the man cross, and the horse 
generally has to suffer for it. 

Don't neglect to give your stirrup-leathers a good twist- 
ing before you mount, so that the stirrup, when in position, 
instead of hanging flat against the horse's side, hangs at right 
angles to it, with a straight opening for your foot. It 
looks better, feels and is better. (See page 109.) 

Don't ride in a knee-padded saddle, or one with a flask- or 
sandwich-case fastened to it. They are more or less in the 
way, and the pad and flask prevent an easy return to your 
seat if you are thrown on to your horse's neck. The flap- 
ping sandwich-case also cannot but be a source of annoy- 
ance to the horse. 

Don't buy a thick padded saddle that sits high up on your 
horse. Get one as thin as possible, and stuffed with real hair. 
The nearer you can get your seat to the horse, the better. 
You will be surprised, if you have always ridden on a thick 
saddle, to note how much easier you ride on a thin one, espe- 
cially if you ride by balance. There should be little or no 
padding whatever under the flaps of the saddle ; a thick piece 
of pigskin under the girth-buckles is quite sufficient. Half 
or three quarters of an inch makes a wonderful difference. 

* See illustration, page 109. 



290 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

We have left one of the most important "don'ts" to the 
last: Don't ride a horse a rod with a perfectly slack rein, 
no matter if you are tired and the horse is too. This is a 
very common error. Instead keep always a light touch on 
his mouth. In this way, after you have ridden even a 
tough-mouthed horse at a walk as well as at a trot, you will 
be surprised to note that he will soon begin to answer to a 
very light pull, and finally that an almost imperceptible 
touch of the reins will guide him. Horses get the notion, 
if you ride them with a slack rein at a walk or slow trot 
and take them by the head when going fast, that the slack 
rein means to go slow and the pull back to go ahead — 
just the contrary of what you really intend. This style of 
riding is of course, therefore, the best way to turn horses 
into pullers, and is one of the worst habits a rider can 
get into. For the same reason don't let your hands 
drop stationary in your lap. Give your wrists perfect free- 
dom to enable you to keep a uniform touch, which, of all 
things, a horse seems to prefer you to do. If you have 
been in the habit of riding with your hands rigid you will 
be surprised to notice what a give and take your hands 
must make to follow the natural oscillation of a horse's 
head. Nothing you can do will improve your own hands 
more than to ride horses when at walk, and at all times, for 
that matter, in this style. Practise on the way to the meet 
and covert, especially when walking a horse ; try with the 
least amount of effort possible to make him cross to the 
other side of the road and back, or move from the road to 
a side-path. You will find in time you have made a most 



Horse Companionship 291 

wonderful change both in the horse's mouth and in your 
hands. 

Any one of these " don'ts," taken separately, sounds insig- 
nificant ; but the neglect of them in the aggregate ruins a 
horse. Attention to these little things makes the finished 
rider. 



XXVI 
THE CONSULTATION OF WAR 



" And now, brother sportsman, go home to your rest. 
And dream of the chase till the morn; 
Ride on in your sleep o'er the fields of the west. 
The vale that puts rider and horse to the test. 
And follow the hound and the horn." 

POEMS IN PINK 




XXVI 
THE CONSULTATION OF WAR 

ARRANGING FOR A DAy's HUNTING AN ELABORATE PREPARATION 

OLD SIMPSON AT WORK 

UNTING," says the immortal Jorocks, "is 
the image of war without its guilt." Few 
persons indeed realise the preparation and 
strategy necessary to a day's hunting — the 
neglect of which would soon bring the hunt to the end of 
its popularity. The idea that a fox-chase consists simply 
in the coming together of a lot of riders who go to a 
covert, start a fox, and race him to death, is one that any 
real acquaintance with the sport speedily dispels. I have 
attempted, perhaps with some success, to show what is 
involved in the establishment and maintenance of a well- 
organised hunt. I come now to the preparation for a day's 
sport, in which the general and his aide lay plans and plots 
for the ensuing engagements. 

It is the evening before the day of a meet. Weeks earlier 
it has been determined where the meets shall be for the month, 
and printed notices to that effect have been sent to all the 
members and farmers and patrons in the county. The Hall, 
where the Master resides, is of course filled with guests, 

295 



2()6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

themselves full of merriment and expectation. After din- 
ner the Master excuses himself, and is soon closeted with 
the huntsman, who has come in to discuss plans for the 
morrow. The county map is taken down, and also a map 
which the Master has had specially made, on which is 
marked every farm, lane, woodland, ravine, or brook in the 
neighbourhood. With these spread before them, and the 
Master's note-book at hand for reference, the two proceed 
to work. The note-book is a complete chronicle of past 
events, giving a history of every run, and a record of the 
participants in it, and of every covert drawn for years past 
— a regular log-book, in fact, and most indispensable it is, 
too. The Master opens the consultation. 

" Well, Huntsman," he says, " what do you think of 
drawing the Maple Ravine ? Or shall we try the Peters 
gully } We had a capital run from there last year." 

" Please yourself," replies the huntsman, who has reasons 
of his own for not drawing either place, but is politic 
enough not to advance his own preferences. He will let 
the Master draw these out of him to suit himself 

" On some accounts," says the Master, " I prefer the 
Springer woods to either. You see, we shall have some 
followers out with us to-morrow from the Blanck Hunt, and 
they 're said to be devils to ride. I should like to give 
them a ride across some of our great grass meadows. We 
might draw the woods behind Parker's. Or what about 
Johnston's ravine, with a chance of a run over Burden Flats ? " 

" The flats have been planted with beans this year," 
says the huntsman, " and the recent rains will make the 
going awfully slow." 



The Consultation of War 297 

" It would serve some of those jealous riders right if they 
had to go slow for once," comments the Master ; " only 
they would kill their poor horses." 

" How about the ridge road at Fur Forks ? " asks the 
huntsman, now coming forward with his own plans. " Old 
Simpson " — our old friend the earth-stopper — " says there 
are two litters of foxes up there, and the farmers are 
anxious for you to give them a dusting." 

" That 's a fact," agrees the Master. " We ought to go 
there. Mrs. Jenks wrote me yesterday that she had lost 
some of her chickens. They were struck by lightning, 
most likely. Foxes don't kill chickens, you know ; at 
least, not in their own neighbourhood." 

" The going will be good up there on the high ground," 
suggests the huntsman, who probably has seen the farmer 
and knows that the litter has been carefully preserved for 
the hunting season. 

*' That 's a fact," says the Master. " The trouble is, Mrs. 
Whirler is coming out to-morrow with a four-in-hand and 
a party of friends. She and a dozen more have written to 
say they are bringing friends, and hope they will be able to 
see some of the run from the highway. The ridge is alto- 
gether too rough for four-in-hands, or for any other kind 
of driving, for that matter." 

So every covert for three miles about the place of meet- 
ing is gone over, pros and cons carefully compared. Finally 
it is decided to draw the Benson Wood, and, failing that, 
the Peler ravine. By this time, thinks the Master, the 
coaches will have turned back, and, if there is still time, 
the hounds may be taken to the ridge road. 



298 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

After this much of the programme has been decided 
upon, the best ways of drawing each covert are discussed. 
The Master next goes over his list of hounds, making 
selections with a view to uniformity of size especially, for 
he wishes to display his beauties to the best possible advan- 
tage before the visitors next day. Then they decide which 
horse the Master shall ride, and which for his second mount. 
The huntsman also makes his selection, and decides upon 
the mounts for the whippers-in. There are, further, three 
or four mounts to be provided for guests — ladies, perhaps, as 
well as men. These selections must be carefully based on 
what the Master knows of the riding of each guest. All 
this takes time, the list being changed and changed again. 
In addition, two or three carriages are to be provided for 
ladies and guests who do not ride, together with the inci- 
dental question of who is to drive them. 

Already the consultation has consumed an hour or possi- 
bly two, and the business is only begun. The huntsman 
has yet to go to the kennels, and wake up old Simpson the 
earth-stopper, and explain the programme to him ; and to 
see the kennel huntsman and give him the list of hounds 
that are to go out to-morrow. This must be known the 
night before, so that their next morning's feeding may be 
regulated accordingly, either very light or none at all, de- 
pending on the time of the meet and the distance from the 
meet to the covert. From the kennels the huntsman must 
turn to the stables, and go carefully over the programme of 
horses with the head coachman. The whole train must 
be carefully laid. 

By the time the Master and his guests are saying their 




J- 

o 



o 






O 






o 



The Consultation of War 299 

good nights, old Simpson the earth-stopper, last but not 
least, is saddling his pony, and before they are asleep is 
grumbling to himself along the highway, his lantern on his 
arm and shovel strapped to his back, while his faithful lit- 
tle terrier Skip trots along behind him for company. ** Why 
do they want to draw the Benson Wood and then go 'way 
off to the ridge road?" he grumbles. **Just to make me 
as much work as they possibly can, I suppose. And after 
it is all done they may never go nigh the ridge. Fox- 
hunting ain't what it used to be when I was a boy." 

So he goes along, scolding to himself. Sometimes he 
tells his troubles to the pony and Skip, who, though they 
may both sympathise with him, are powerless to change 
the general's commands. " I have a mind not to go a 
step," he says to the pony. 

Yet if you should meet him two hours later, going along 
some dreary bye-road in the dark windy night, and say, 
** Hello, Simpson ; is n't this rather rough on a man of your 
age.?" he would not agree at all. 

" Oh, nonsense ! " he would retort. " I could give any of 
the boys a hard day yet if they tried to follow me"; and then 
he begins to tell some appallingly long story about his 
prowess at the battle of Gettysburg. Or if you should say, 
meeting him some cold, rainy night crossing your farm on 
his white pony like a ghost, *' Well, uncle, have n't they 
some younger man to do this work ? " 

" Not a man on the place knows enough to do my 
work," would be the quick reply. 

To hear him grumble and growl before he gets under 
way, you might suppose him the most abused man on the 



300 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

place ; but if you should utter one protesting word against 
the Master you would think the old man again in the 
battle of Gettysburg, in the thickest of the fight, so hot 
would be his defence. Good old Simpson ! When he dies 
every true sportsman will mourn his loss. 



XXVII 
THE MEET 



*' What a fine hunting day! as balmy as May, 
And the hounds to the village will come. 
Every friend will be there, and all trouble and care 
Will be left behind them at home. 

"See the servants and steeds on the way. 

And sportsmen their scarlet display. 
Let us join the glad throng that goes marching along. 

And we all will go hunting to-day." 

HUNTING SONG 




XXVII 
THE MEET 

THE M.F.H. AS HOST IN DISCHARGE OF HIS SOCIAL DUTIES 

INTRODUCING A FEW FRIENDS 

HE meet to-day is at, say, the Master's house; 

time, half-past ten ; the hour for going to 

covert, eleven. 

During the preliminary minutes the guests 
saunter about the grounds or visit the stables to look to the 
condition of their mounts. The great dining-hall is open 
to all who come, its hospitable board laden with choice 
joints of cold meats, salads, and fruits, and decorated with 
rare plants and flowers. The sideboard is a forest of bottles; 
beer, wine, champagne, sodas, or milk are there for one's 
choice. 

Before long the members begin to arrive, leaving their 
horses in the first empty stall or box they come to, from 
which the Master has had his own horses removed to make 
room for them. You may see their riders presently going in 
couples across the beautiful lawn toward the house to pay 
their respects to the Master, and have, as the Scotch say, 
*' a wee nip" before going to covert. Soon a steady pro- 
cession of carriages and pedestrians is moving up the drives 



304 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

and walks. Lest any of the country members perhaps hesi- 
tate to enter the house, either the Master himself, or a friend 
or guest assigned to the duty, goes about among them, mak- 
ing hospitably sure that no shy stranger goes away unbidden. 
Mrs. Whirler drives up with her coach and four, loaded to 

its utmost capacity with visiting friends. Mr. H comes 

surging around the curve of the drive with a six-in-hand 
to his old mail-coach, at the same time that a sporty young 
man lands a smart tandem across the green. It is all a 
most engaging medley — four-in-hands and farm-waggons, 
tandems and butchers' carts, spider phaetons and buck- 
boards, friends, neighbours, tenant-farmers, visitors, villagers, 
and a dozen families or more, with their guests, who have 
moved into the valley for the hunting season. 

Having welcomed the guests who have come to the 
house, the Master, some little time before eleven, hurries out 
for a word with any who are unable or disinclined to 
leave their mounts or carriages. The first one to greet him 
is Daisy Mulford, mounted on her half-bred pony. Miss 
Daisy lives some seven miles away. 

** Oh, Miss Daisy," says the Master, affably, " pleased 
to see you out to-day ! How are your father and mother.? 
Your old pony looks keen as ever." 

Daisy, who has been going over and over again in her 
mind just how she shall say something she has meant to 
say, summons up her courage, as the Master is about to 
pass on, and ventures a query. 

" When are you going to have a meet at our farm ? " she 
asks. 

*' Well, I hardly know. Are there any foxes down 
there .? We have had some capital runs from your place." 




2h 



> 

It 

Q 
>^ 

c 






The Meet S^S 

" Yes," answers Daisy; «* Mamma says she thinks there 
are, because our hens have been going lately." Then, for 
fear the Master may think perhaps she is hinting for com- 
pensation, she hastens to add : ** We 're not sure that any 
fox has taken them. Papa says it 's probably a skunk, or 
perhaps the Italians working in the gravel-pit near our 

farm." 

" Give my compliments to your father and mother. Miss 
Daisy," says the Master. " I will send the huntsman over 
there to look into the matter. Meantime you might ride 
your pony about the coverts and see if you can locate an 
open earth. If you can't we shall have to turn the pack 
on the Italians. You shall be my whipper-in or the hunts- 
man, whichever you prefer!" — with which the Master 
lifts his hat and passes on. Mrs. W with her four-in- 
hand enjoys not even a taste of the pleasure that fills Miss 
Daisy's heart this day. 

''Good morning, William," says the Master, next, to a 
farmer's son on a long-tailed four-year-old colt. " What 's 
that you are riding to-day, my lad ? " 

" Oh, that 's the colt." 

The Master does not seem to understand. 

" The colt out of old Jane," adds the boy. 

** You don't say so ! " The Master looks him hastily 
over. ** Surely he is the right stamp. What was his 

sire r 

" Why, your thoroughbred stallion Devil-to-Pay." 

" Is that a fact ? Well, he can't help being the right 

sort, can he ? And he is in good hands, no mistake. You 

always give him his head at his jumps, don't you, and bring 

him to his fences well in hand, with his hocks well under 



3o6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

him ? Right, my boy." Then he leans forward and 
whispers, " Don't you think your curb-chain is rather 
tight?" And then aloud, '*What 's the name of your 
colt ? " 

" Devil-to-Pay Second," comes the quick reply. 

The Master turns away laughing. " Smart lad, that," 
he thinks. "He has the making of a sportsman." And 
the boy, on his part, has received a valuable lesson in horse- 
manship. Delivered in a tactful and sportsmanlike manner, 
it sinks deep into his mind. 

Up comes Miss Frances in a two-wheeled pony-trap, a 
sweet girl of sixteen from Rochester. " Oh, Miss Fran- 
ces ! Delighted ! How smart you look in that new 
hunting-frock ! Dear me, you will be breaking the hearts 
of all my young men. How can they chase foxes when 
you are in sight ? " 

"Oh, but you 're a taffy-giver!" laughs Miss Frances. 

"That hard-riding boy Arthur, they tell me," con- 
tinues the Master, imperturbably, " has already cut the other 
fellows out." 

"Now don't you make any mistake, Mr. Master" — 
with a great show of indignation. " He is too shy a rider 
to catch anything — I mean — " 

" What, ho, there! " laughs the Master. " Has his fox 
slipped covert or have you come to a check ? My word 
for it, Arthur is a fine chap. Give the boy a chance to 
view you away. The trouble is, the other fellows have 
foiled your line." 

" I should like to beat you ! " cries Miss Frances, red- 
dening and shaking her pretty fist with a great exhibition 



The Meet 307 

of earnestness. What she really means, as one may see by 
the look of her eyes, is something quite different. 

Follow the Master, and you will see him next taking off 
his cap to an old dame and her two daughters on the back 
seat of Farmer Sykes's democrat. Farmer Sykes is on the 
front seat with a couple of sturdy boys, also of the Sykes 
persuasion. 

" Good morning, Mrs. Sykes. And how are you, James.? 
Any foxes up your way ? " 

" Oh, yes," says Farmer Sykes. "A vixen has laid up 
her cubs in that old earth in the spring lot by the thorn- 
apple tree. They must be very fit, too, I 'm a-thinking, 
for my misses declares the mother has been feeding on her 
prize Plymouth Rock pullets all summer. If you don't 
come up and bustle them about a bit pretty soon, they '11 be 
so fat they can't run." 

"I '11 be up there," says the Master, — and he makes a 
memorandum in his note-book, — " and give them such a 
dusting as a fox never had before in his life. I suppose 
you 've no objection to our hunting over your farm, Mr. 
Sykes ? " 

" Not a bit. Come as often as you like. Kill your fox 
in the parlour if you want to. A little blood would do 
the old carpet good. My misses was saying only the other 
day it was getting awfully faded." 

"All right, James ; but," with a sly look at the two Miss 
Sykeses on the back seat, "I think I had better send some 
of these two-legged hounds to do the hunting in the par- 
lour." And the troubles of the Sykes family — bad crops, 
an overdue bank-note, the drought, and the grasshoppers 



3o8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

— are forgotten for the rest of the day, thanks to a 
pleasant word. 

"Who wouldn't take a puppy," says Mrs. S., "for such 
a nice gentleman ? " 

" Who would n't protect an earth with a litter of foxes 
for such a man ?" says her worthy spouse. 

A young man from Boston, the hard-riding lad Arthur, 
of whom the Master spoke, catches his eye. 

" Hello, Arthur ; what 's the matter ? You look sober. 
Did the boys do you at cards last night ? Why the deuce 
are you not looking after Miss Frances, you rascal ! Last 
week, if I wanted to find you, I simply had to look for her." 

"Oh, pshaw! It 's all up with me," Arthur answers, 
hardly. 

"The deuce it is ! I know a thing or two. By the way, 
I 'm asking her mother to bring Frances over to dinner on 
Wednesday. You are going to be my guest that day." 

-But I — " 

" Not a word, sir. I '11 entertain mamma, and you 
shall have everything your own way, old boy ! There ! 
Ride to your own line, and don't forget your failings. 
Hold hard ! Hold hard ! And may the Lord have mercy 
on your soul ! " 

The Master notes that the hour of eleven is at hand, and 
prepares to mount his faithful old hunter, the Sheik. Just 
then, however, he spies, standing aloof from the others and 
half hidden by the great clump of evergreens, looking quite 
sad and unhappy, a villager who for a good many years 
has ridden to hounds as often as he can leave his business 
in town. Gossip says Villager's wife has been flirting with 



The Meet 309 

a married man from a neighbouring town for several years, 
and he has had more than one good word of advice and 
comfort from the Master. Mrs. V. has lately taken her 
departure from home, and suspicion is great. Only the 
Master of all those present knows Villager's secret. The 
two men shake hands. 

"Any news. Villager?" 

" No," comes the sad reply. 

"I am sorry for you ! " says the Master, still holding him 
by the hand. With another warm pressure of the hand, he 
hurries on. 

Villager bites hard against his lip. His face hardens, 
and he reins his horse farther back into the evergreens, 
brushing away a tear with the back of his hand. 

But by now it is almost eleven, and everv one not yet 
mounted prepares to mount. Toot-toot ! goes the horn, and 
soon a long cavalcade is getting into shape to jog along to 
covert. 



XXVIII 
RIDING TO COVERT 



*' See, the pack are game and sprightly, 
Oh, they tread the road so lightly! 
O'er each wilful face uplifted 
Thoughts of sport have sweetly drifted. 
And I hear the rustling music of their feet upon the way." 

RHYMES IN RED 




XXVIII 
RIDING TO COVERT 

MOUNTING FOR THE START A RIDER IN A FIGHT WITH HIS 

HORSE MRS. SO-AND-SO AND OUR HUNTSMAN POSITION 

T lacks but five minutes of the hour. The 
cracking of the whipper-in's thong an- 
nounces the approach of the hounds from 
the kennels. 

"Here they come ! Here they come ! " cries every one 
to his neighbour, and the whole company turn like the 
minor actors in a play to see the star of the performance 
making his entrance upon the stage. " Here they come ! " 
The huntsman, with twenty-odd couples of hounds trot- 
ting beside his horse, rounds the bend in the drive, and the 
admiring crowd stand back to admit them to the lawn. 
Bowing to right and left, he greets everybody with a 
face brimful of smiles and cheerfulness. The whippers-in 
are looking very smart in their velvet caps, hunting-coats, 
top-boots, and white breeches. Their saddle- and bridle- 
irons are polished to the last degree, and everything about 
them is scrupulously neat, yet at the same time most 
businesslike. Their horses, like themselves, are well 
groomed, and as fit and well-mannered as feeding and train- 



314 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

ing can make them. You can tell with half an eye they 
are very well bred and very fast. The hounds also, you 
cannot but notice, in size, colour, and markings show evi- 
dence of the carefulness of their selection. Altogether 
they are the pride and admiration of all the hunt. 

When the huntsman comes to a halt the crowd has 
formed in a wide circle about him. Hunting men and 
hound-fanciers are already discussing the points of the 
hounds, and farmers and their wives and children are 
pointing out what hounds they have had at their own farms 
at walk, recounting their deviltries with real delight. 
Occasionally a young hound recognises his country friends, 
and trots over to them at the sound of their voices or upon 
hearing them call his name. They may have come miles, 
some of these people, just to have a word with the puppy 
they "walked," and to see how he looks as a hound in such 
grand company. 

" Of all things ! " cries Mrs. Farmer. " Why, Puppy, 
how you have changed ! When he left our place," she 
will explain to whoever is standing near, " he was as fat as 
butter, and now look at him. You can count every rib in 
his body. Dear me ! he must have been homesick. He 
has more muscle and I dare say he minds better, and all 
that. But fancy his going out for a hard day's work with 
no breakfast ! " 

Villagers old and young fill out the circle, while first- 
time visitors to the hunt look on in open-mouthed 
wonderment. 

Meanwhile the hounds are walking about the hunts- 
man's horse, sitting on their haunches, rolling on the grass. 



Riding to Covert 315 

or lying at full length on the velvety turf. Some of the 
younger hounds already are trotting about with noses down 
and sterns waving, not having yet learned to husband their 
strength. 

** Back, Songstress; go back!" A crack of the whip- 
per-in's thong within an inch of her side sends one of these 
triflers to the ranks with stern down, very crestfallen. 

"Do you see that hound by the huntsman's stirrup.?" 
asks a hunting friend of a stranger he has taken in hand. 
" That 's Bluebells, the Master's favourite. Is n't she 
great ? Her fling and drive in covert are something won- 
derful. That big upstanding hound is Trumpeter, the best- 
nosed hound in the pack. When he fails to follow a line 
no other hound need make the attempt. That black-and- 
tan bitch rolling on the grass is Quickstep — the most musi- 
cal tongue you ever heard. Her voice is as clear as a bell.'' 

" What hound is this ? " asks a farmer of the huntsman. 

" That 's Vagabond, by Vampire out of Quickstep." 

" And this one ? " 

''That 's Barmaid, by Villager out of Bonnie Maid." 

" I want to know!" replies Mr. Farmer. " Looks just 
like her old dad, don't she ? " 

" Very much indeed," replies the huntsman, who might 
have added that she also has inherited the vice of her 
mother in giving tongue only as long as she can lead the 
pack — a very jealous hound ; the moment she drops 
behind she has no interest in the game. 

So the talk and admiring comment run about the circle, 
while snap shots without number are aimed at the picture. 

It lacks two minutes of the hour. Toot-toot ! goes 



3i6 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the huntsman's horn, as a signal to mount. The stable doors 
are thrown open, and a row of horses that have been sad- 
dled and bridled and backed into their stalls are liberated 
with a rattle and led smartly out upon the lawn. All is 
bustle and confusion. Village boys and grooms, who have 
been leading riders' horses aimlessly about, now bring them 
forward. Riders are hurrying hither and thither across 
the lawn in search of their mounts. 

" What 's become of that blamed boy, I wonder ? " 
queries one nervous man ; but no one is there to answer him. 
Presently, however, the boy is spied, dragging his feet along 
as if they were lead, and tugging at the bridle of a highly 
bred horse that seems ashamed of being seen in such 
uncouth company. 

Another rider, in the excitement of the moment, fails to 
recognise his own horse, which is standing just at his elbow, 
and he calls like a cow that has lost her first-born among a 
herd of strange cattle. 

" Micawber ! I say, Micawber ! Where the — " 

" Here, sir," says Micawber, giving the rider a touch 
on the elbow. 

" Oh, well, where the deuce have you been keeping 
yourself all day ? " And without even a glance at bridle, 
throat-latch, or girth, he hurriedly mounts. One might 
have expected as much. The excited and blustering way 
in which the gentleman mounts is of itself enough to put 
the horse on his mettle. The rider is trying vainly to put 
on his gloves ; the horse is eager to go on with the moving 
hounds ; and a fight begins then and there between the 
two. Which of the two is at fault ? It will be interest- 



Riding to Covert 317 

ing to watch them, for, if we mistake not, there is trouble 
brewing for both. 

The carriages manoeuvre to get into line. Expectancy, 
animation, joy, light every face, excepting only our 
novice rider, who looks very serious and a trifle bewildered. 
Fortunately, however, he has mounted in time to avoid a 
misunderstanding with his horse, though one must confess 
he went about it in a mechanical sort of way, impelled 
rather by some force outside o£ himself than by any obvious 
free will. 

The Master is most punctual ; there is no five minutes' 
grace for late-comers. " Give them five and they will 
want ten. No, sir ; not a minute," he declares. 

The town clock strikes the last stroke of eleven. Again 
the huntsman's horn is blown. It is the signal to move on 
to covert. 

Crack! The second whipper-in's thong rounds up the 
scattering hounds to the huntsman's horse. Slowly the 
cavalcade, headed by the huntsman and hounds, moves for- 
ward, the first whipper-in riding ahead to the right, the 
second whipper-in to the rear and left of the pack, or 
in any place where he may be wanted to keep a lagging or 
skulking hound in his place. 

All round is gay, — men, horses, dogs, — 
And In each smiling countenance appear 
Fresh-blooming health and universal joy. 

Following the hounds rides the Master, and to the right 
and left, and following on behind, the riders by twos and 
fours. Some drop back, others go forward to say a word 



3i8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

to a friend, all rising and falling, falling and rising in their 
stirrups to the trot-toe-trot, trot-toe-trot, of their well-man- 
nered steeds. 

One pathetic exception is our friend who put his horse 
in a temper as he was mounting. He goes waltzing past 
the crowd with his horse in a lather less than a hundred 
rods from the meet. Pulling and sawing, tugging and 
pulling his poor horse only makes a bad matter worse ; and 
all for the want of being one minute calmer in mounting. 

More comfortable riders take this opportunity for look- 
ing about and counting up the riders — seventy-two in all, 
including several ladies — or gossiping a bit on the way. 

Who is that driving past the riders with her horses in a 
gallop ? 

" Oh, that 's Mrs. So-and-So. She knows the country, 
and from the direction the hounds are taking she guesses 
the covert they are headed for. She always waits until the 
crowd is well on the way, then rushes past." 

As a matter of fact, the lady asked the Master what 
covert he was going to draw first. It was a little comedy 
which did not escape a few of the knowing ones at the 
start. 

" Well, really," replied the Master, in his politest man- 
ner, " you had better ask the huntsman." 

Diverting her to the huntsman's track was a clever trick 
indeed, in which he was justified, because he knew the 
huntsman could cope with Mrs. So-and-So and her bab- 
bling tongue. She is particularly fond of being the first to 
whisper a matter to her intimates, and he is aware that by 
the time hounds reach the covert to be drawn, if she car- 







bfi 



O 






H 



Riding to Covert 319 

ries her point, half a dozen carriages and as many road- 
riders will have surrounded the wood in the best possible 
positions, as they think, to see the find and start, and will 
be sure to make the fox break covert before hounds reach 
there or can station themselves in a position to head him 
back. 

Mrs. So-and-So, not being able herself to go to the 
huntsman, asked an unsophisticated gentleman, eager enough 
for a commission from the fashionable lady. 

" Oh, Mr. Unsophisticated," she called to him. " You 
are just the man I 'm looking for. Would you mind 
doing me a favour ? " 

" Most happy, I assure you," answered the delighted 
gentleman. " Nothing could afford me — " 

" Just go out and say to the huntsman, Mrs. So-and-So 
wishes to know as a special favour — as a special favour, 
mind — what covert is to be drawn first. There 's a good 
man. Never mind your hat." 

" Delighted to obey your orders, Madame," said Mr. U., 
with an impressive bow. Then, later, to a farmer on the 
edge of the circle, he said timidly, afraid to go in among 
the hounds, " I should like to speak to the huntsman." 

" Go right up to him, stranger. The hounds won't hurt 
you," advised the farmer, knowing well what would 
happen. 

The messenger ventured in, but no sooner had he entered 
an opening than the hounds surrounded him. First one and 
then another poked a cold nose against his hand, which 
jerked back as if it had touched a red-hot coal. Other 
hounds, seeing a man throwing up his hands, thought they 



3 20 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

were all to be rewarded with bread-crumbs, as the custom 
is at the kennels when visitors call. Poor Mr. Unsophisti- 
cated, unable either to go forward or go back, began to 
dance and jump and gesticulate like one shooing a flock of 
chickens. Everybody was soon laughing at the strange 
figure he cut. Finally, upon the whippers-in coming to his 
rescue, the hounds broke away, and the poor fellow man- 
aged to work his way out, though his mission was yet 
unaccomplished. He now made bold to deliver his mes- 
sage to the huntsman from the circle, to the renewed 
amusement of everybody. 

" Really," was all the satisfaction he got out of the 
huntsman, who had been caught with such chaff before, 
" I have not consulted the Master about it yet this morning." 

Thereupon the unsuccessful mercury rushed away to the 
house amid shouts of laughter from the country people, 
whose enjoyment of the city fellow's experience was 
unconcealed. The huntsman's " yet this morning " saved 
his reputation for the truth and pleased them hugely. It 
was indeed a close shave, as one who was present at the 
consultation of war will recall. 

So Mrs. So-and-So, foiled again, waits until she sees the 
direction hounds are taking, and rushes away past all the 
riders, her horses on a run. Seeing this, the Master rides 
alongside of the huntsman and says: "Try no covert where 
drivers or townspeople are assembled." 

This may upset all the well-laid plans of the night 
before. Fox-hunting, as we have shown, is a game of plot 
and counter-plot. The huntsman, a passed master in his art, 
decides on a ruse that sends Mrs. So-and-So, and a dozen 



Riding to Covert 321 

others who follow her supposed leadership, to the Maple 
Grove covert ; then, like a fox, he turns short back to the 
Benson wood, and draws the covert as originally planned. 
Master and huntsman exchange knowing smiles as they 
meet again. 

A little before the Benson wood is reached, the hunts- 
man nods to the first whipper-in, who by a circuitous 
route rushes off to take up his position on the side of the 
covert opposite that on which it is to be drawn. His duty 
there, as we have already shown, is to view the fox away. 

At this point we can easily imagine the novice, who has 
doubtless heard a deal of talk among riding men about 
taking up the best position at the covert-side, asking where 
he had better station himself. We have already shown 
that foxes seek their food at night and sleep during the day. 
They usually kennel early in the morning, selecting the 
south or sunny exposure of the covert. But, since circum- 
stances alter cases, should there be a breeze stirring at the 
time, they are likely to lie up for the day on the windward 
side, especially if they have reason to suspect danger from 
that direction. Their personal comfort, in other words, 
gives way to personal safety. Again, they may ignore both 
wind and comfort, and kennel on the side of the covert 
which is toward a farm-house where a dog is owned. 
Foxes must do their own picket duty, and seem to manage 
things so they may do this as much as possible while they 
sleep, relying more on their wits and cunning to get them 
out of harm's way, when they are warned of it, than on seek- 
ing some secure and secluded spot in the heart of a forest. 
If there is reason to believe a fox is to be found on the 



3 22 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

south side of a covert, most huntsmen prefer to cast the 
hounds in from the east or north or west, and hunt up to 
him, giving him the least opportunity to dodge or hang 
about before taking to the open. All this is a matter of 
woodcraft, and the problem, one of the interesting moves 
of the game, must be studied out by each rider for himself. 

In approaching our covert to-day we notice that we do 
so from the east, and that the wind is south. We are, that 
is to say, starting with the general rule that the fox will 
be found on the sunny side of the covert, and that since his 
nature is to travel up-wind he will in this case break toward 
the southward if the hounds are in the east to help him decide. 
We cannot stop now to discuss the numerous other compli- 
cations which may arise. The Master may prefer, for in- 
stance, on account of the condition of the fields to the south 
of the covert, to send the fox the other way out. Assum- 
ing that everything is favourable, however, to the fox's 
breaking south, our best station to get away with a good 
start will be at the southeast corner. At the same time 
we must be careful not to go beyond the corner, or we 
may head the fox back into the covert again, which is a 
thing no hunting man should ever be guilty of. Novice 
had better not make too great an advance in that direction, 
for the Master, who is himself setting the example of hold- 
ing back, has an eye on all the forward riders, and a step 
too far is sure to bring a reprimand. " Hold hard there, 
Bayhorse ! Hold hard ! Do you want to head the fox 
back to the covert ?" 

We had better keep back, taking a position a very little 
in advance of the Master himself; we must remember, as he 



Riding to Covert 323 

does, that foxes do not always kennel on the south side or 
go away up-wind. Sometimes, indeed, it seems as if they 
knew the general theory of hunting men in this regard and 
kennelled for the day in a position to upset all their well-laid 
plans. Position is really something that concerns the hard 
riders more than it does the genuine hunting men. When 
you get it right it is considered a great stroke of luck, and 
when, as is often the case, you don't it is very hard 
indeed. 

The question of right position is an easier one after the 
fox has broken. After the first burst of speed, lasting, ac- 
cording to the condition of the fox, for five or twenty-five 
or even forty minutes, there is sure to be a check, and then, 
as we have shown, he turns down-wind. For instance, he 
goes away east and the wind is south. Then he is almost 
certain to turn to the north, so as to run down-wind, and 
if you wish to take advantage of him, your best position 
will be to the north of his line. For my own part, I pre- 
fer to take no position in advance of the Master at the 
covert-side, and to follow the hounds, if I can, regardless 
of wind. Should they get out of sight or hearing when 
going east, for instance, the wind being south, I keep to 
the north country, so as to have a ready view of them if 
they make a turn that way themselves. For a hunting 
man this is quite enough manoeuvring. A great many 
times, too, riding men would be better off if they did not 
undertake to anticipate the fox. But here we are at the 
covert-side. 



XXIX 
THE GAME ITSELF 



** See, where they spread 
And range around, and dash the glitt'ring dew. 
If some stanch hound, with his authentic voice. 
Avow the recent trail, the jostling tribe 
Attend his call, then with one mutual cry 
The welcome news confirm, and echoing hills 
Repeat the pleasing tale." 

SOMERVILLE 




XXIX 
THE GAME ITSELF 

BREAKING COVERT FULL CRY THE CHECK THE RIDERS 

THE DEATH 

HE huntsman, without a moment's delay, 
casts the hounds into the covert with a cheer. 
The whipper-in goes over the fence beside 
them, and the huntsman follows, whereupon 
all the riders halt or begin to move to the south, the east, 
or the northeast corner of the covert, according to their 
several judgments of the way the fox is likely to break, or 
their knowledge of the country. The thong of the 
whipper-in keeps up a lively cracking to prevent hounds 
from spreading too wide. The huntsman is cheering on 
the pack, encouraging it to draw. 

" Edawick ! Edawick ! Edawick ! Oust him ! Away 
with him ! Rouse him ! Rouse him, my beauties ! " 

How the hounds fling and drive, now halting in a cluster 
with noses down and sterns waving, now scattering, now 
on again, making good every yard of the way! Your 
blood cannot help but tingle. Cigars and cigarettes are 
thrown away. Another hasty glance at curb-chain and throat- 

327 



328 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

latch, a feeling of saddle-girths. Each horse has caught 
the spirit and is as eager as the riders for the challenge. 



See, the chestnut veins are swelling ; 
In her neck the blood is welling ! 

Of what peculiar stuff must a man be made who is not 
stirred at such sights and sounds as these ? It must be , 
something of the nature of putty. Yet there sits a chap 
on a slab-sided, three-cornered rake of a thoroughbred, 
lighting another cigarette and looking, or assuming to look, 
as if the whole proceedings were a bore. He is talking to 
another " chappy," telling him the latest morsel of gossip 
from the club, probably, to show his indifference to the 
game. One likes to believe that such a mien generally is 
assumed, but it is not always. There are men who merely 
act this role, and there are others for whom the part of a 
drone is natural. The vacant, listless stare in the presence 
of such stirring sights and sounds as these makes a man 
look the idiot truly, creatures in whom our " higher " civ- 
ilisation has bred out all the sporting instinct of their 
fathers, fellows who are out to ride, and ** if it were not 
for the d dogs could have some fun." 

All the hunting types are here. Look at that man on 
the roan, shamelessly spurring his mount to make him jump 
and rear just to show off; and the "swell" on a chestnut, 
riding about among the crowd on the same errand. These 
are the peacocks of the hunt. Again, that alert, nervous 
chap on the black, edging his way to the southeast corner, 
is out to cut down the field ; the horse he rides is a new 








!-5 



O 



The Game Itself 329 

one, a steeplechaser, just fast enough to be beaten between 
the flags ; and he has it in for two or three fellow-riders, 
no doubt, who have been leading the field. They are what 
the Master calls ** threshing scoundrels." Blackhorse 
keeps on, and as he moves forward others follow — there 
are always plenty to follow a foolish lead — till, just as we 
expected, out comes a scolding from the Master: *' Hold 
hard there, Blackhorse \ Hold hard, I say ! I beg of 
you, gentlemen, give the fox a chance." They stop where 
they are. Now our Master, whom we saw all smiles and 
good cheer at the meet, is getting red in the face. He 
wishes to the bottom of his heart the fox would break 
north and leave these fellows hopelessly behind. Between 
you and me, dear reader, I think this is one reason why 
the huntsman does what he can to make foxes break in the 
direction unexpected by the hunting-to-ride men. 

A third-rate horse-dealer who has timed himself just 
right comes dashing up. He has not come by way of the 
lane as all the other riders have, but jumps his horse into 
it, and, with a loud shout to some other rider, succeeds in 
calling every one's attention to his arrival. "What do you 
think of this one?" he inquires, loud enough for all to 
hear. " The best one I ever owned ! " 

Some late-comers and farmers join the group, the latter on 
"green uns " for their first introduction to hounds. They 
follow for a few miles where the leaders have knocked the 
top rails off, and then retire. 

Meantime the hounds have hunted through the covert 
and are heard returning. Hark ! A challenge ! 

No ; it is only a new-entry hound giving tongue to 



3 30 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

a rabbit and now getting a sound rating for his mistake 
from the whipper-in. He goes ki-yi-ing back, with a 
stinger from the whipper-in's crop that raises his hair. 

The hunters shout ; 
The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes ; 
The pack, wide op'ning, load the trembling air 
With various melody ; from tree to tree 
The propagated cry redoubling bounds, 
And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy 
Thro' all the regions near. 

Listen ! A whimper. 

" Speak to it ! " cries the huntsman, as he sees his 
favourite feathering wildly. " Speak to it, Quickstep ! " 

But Quickstep will not tell a He, no matter how much 
the huntsman encourages her. Hearing this cheer to 
Quickstep, several hounds rush to her side. Trumpeter among 
the others; but even that great-nosed hound cannot hit it off. 
They are most likely on the "drag " of the fox, that is, the 
line he took when he entered covert early in the morning 
on his way to kennel. 

Then, cross-examining with curious nose 

Each likely haunt — hark ! on the drag I hear 

Their doleful notes, preluding to the cry. 

They push, they drive, while from his kennel there 

The conscious villain, see, he sulks along. 

Another whimper. " Speak to it. Bluebells ! Speak to 
it ! " cries the huntsman. 

" Tally-ho, tally-ho ! Gone away, gone away, gone 



The Game Itself 331 

away ! " shouts the first whipper-in from the west side of 
the covert. The great forest to the north repeats it in 
echo — " gone away, gone away — away ! " 

Hats are rammed down a degree tighter. Horses, Hke 
their riders, are hardly to be controlled. They rear and 
break away like race-horses at the starting-post. 

" Hold hard, I say, gentlemen ! You must hold hard ! " 
bawls the Master. " Give the hounds a chance. I say, 
Blackhorse, look where you are going. Hounds are not 
running yet." The Master loses his temper, and a lecture 
is in pickle for some one. Have the blessed hounds gone 
to sleep, we wonder ? How the minutes drag between the 
tally-ho gone away and the find ! 

Hark! a whimper — a challenge by Trumpeter, as we 
know by the deep guttural voice, confirmed by Bluebells. 
Half a dozen hounds rush to their sides. The huntsman, 
with cap in hand, leans over his horse's withers, cheering 
the hounds. "On, Bluebells ! On, good bitch ! " A little 
farther, and Quickstep, who has rushed ahead, as she 
always does, hits off the line, and, with one grand chorus 
that fills the forest with its melody, the whole pack goes 
streaming away like a flock of birds. 

How low they stoop, 
And seem to plough the ground ! Then, all at once, 
With greedy nostrils, snuff the fuming steam 
That glads their flutt'ring hearts. As winds let loose 
From the dark caverns of the blust'ring god, 
They burst away and sweep the dewy lawn. 
The welkin rings ; men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods 
In the fiill concert join. 



33 2 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

The chase is on. "Now, lads, ride!" 

Is n't it glorious, this first burst of speed on a horse that 
is just a little above himself? No pen can ever hope to 
describe it. It is as if the gods had given you wings. 
Hear the clamorous pack leading on, your horse scarcely 
touching the turf as he races away, eager in pursuit. The 
first few fences make us catch our breath, for our mounts 
will take them flying, clearing them with feet instead of 
inches to spare. Yet we must not, even in this moment of 
exultation, forget our horsemanship. Allow no horse to take 
liberties after the first fence or two. It is all very well to 
let him rid himself of the superfluous kinks in his legs and 
back and his surcharge of energy, rather than set up a fight 
or ruffle his temper, but on no account must he be per- 
mitted to shoot his bolt. 

" What, a check so soon ? " 

Yes, and very welcome. Let us stop where we are. If 
it be a short turn back we are well enough where we 
stand, or if the fox has already turned down-wind we 
could not be in a better position. In that case the hounds 
have only overshot the line and must come back to find 
it. Let us dismount after the hounds have been per- 
mitted to make their own cast and have failed. We must 
keep an eye to them, however, and at the first symptoms of 
a whimper be ready to mount. 

Now the huntsman, seeing that the hounds do not find 
the scent again by their own cast, lifts them smartly up- 
wind, and, failing there, wheels them around down-wind with 
a wide cast back ; and, sure enough, the leading hounds 
begin to raise their hackles and wave their sterns. The 



The Game Itself 333 

deep-tongued Vagabond hits off the line, raises his head, and 
gives a great shout. A dozen hounds rush past him, and 
once more the distant woods reecho the joyous notes of 
horn and hound. Away we go again. Now we have set- 
tled down to business. There must be no more nonsense 
now; not an ounce more of exertion than is absolutely 
necessary must be taken from our horses. Steady, now, to 
this first fence ! Take him well in hand from now on. It 
is a question not so much of fast riding as of horsemanship. 
That 's it ! Slow him down nearly to a trot. It 's a high 
fence, and he no longer jumps higher than is necessary. 
Good ! Well over. Novice. Yet not so with every one. 
There is a great smashing of top rails, and four riderless 
horses go racing away in the next field. Nobody is hurt, 
luckily. One fellow has his silk hat knocked into an 
accordion down over his ears and eyes, and is trying with 
both hands to extricate himself from under it. Another is 
chasing along across the field afoot, feeling very cheap 
indeed, like a fellow running after an express-train. An- 
other, whose white hunting-breeches have turned green, is 
staring wildly about as if he were just recovering his senses, 
not knowing whether he is awake or dreaming. Another 
has crawled up on the fence, and sits there, digging the grass 
and dirt out of his neck and ears, while he trusts to some 
one else to catch his horse for him. 

Four horses were seen in a terrible plight ; 
Four riders were all more or less in a fi-ight. 

At this juncture comes a check again. Now Renard 
has in all probability turned, after a rest, and is headed for 



3 34 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

the point he first planned to make before he broke covert. 
In this case the check may be short, and we had better 
remain mounted until we see how the hounds act. The 
huntsman is hardly giving them time to make their own 
cast; he is certainly in possession of some knowledge as 
to Renard's game. Directly back he lifts them, and away 
they go again over some good-scenting grass-fields. 

The chorus swells; less various, less sweet 
The thrilling notes when in those very groves 
The feather'd choristers salute the spring, 
And every bush in concert joins, or when 
The master hand in modulated awe 
Bids the loud organ breathe, and all the pow'rs 
Of music in one instrument combine. 
An universal minstrelsy. 

So steady your horse again, and keep as much in reserve 
as you possibly can. Only keep the hounds in sight. They 
are the only pilot — unless you are a stranger in the coun- 
try — worth looking after. What, a brook ? Now, then. 
Novice, not too fast ! Steady to within the last few strides, 
and hold him well in hand for a swerve or refusal. Good 
enough ! You see, the energy you have been saving in 
your horse stood him in well, and he cleared it with ease. 

Check again. Splash! Splash ! Co-souze ! — go half a 
dozen riders into the brook. Every man of them raced at 
it from twenty or thirty rods back. 

There were eight of us at it, and seven got in. 

What a sight ! One fellow is standing on the landing-side, 
trying to pull his horse up by the bridle-reins. Another 



The Game Itself 335 

rider stands dripping on the bank, while his horse is going 
back the way he came. Another is off his horse and up to 
his shoulders, wading in the stream, his hat floating away on 
the current. Still another's horse braced his feet and bolted 
on the bank, sending his rider head first into the brook, like 
a boy from a spring-board. 

In the meantime hounds have hit off the line again, and 
away we go down-wind. Renard has come to the conclu- 
sion that, plan or no plan, the thing for him to do is to save 
his brush. Now he will go down-wind only so far as to 
keep the hounds in hearing. The end is nearing. The 
older hounds are driving to the front. Now is the time for 
one to ride. Now comes the trying time, for when 
Renard is nearly beaten then his cunning and craft are 
brightest. 

A check? No — yes! All but three hounds. Not a 
moment is to be lost. Now must the huntsman ride ! A 
sinking fox and a dying scent are before him. He urges 
forward, leaving the whippers-in to come on with the pack. 
Check again. The pack overtake the huntsman. Trump- 
eter — where is Trumpeter ? Bless that hound ! He has 
hit off the line with a short turn to the right. There goes 
our fox, trailing his brush across yonder knoll. Now, lads, 
ride! One more field! "Hie! Hie! Hie!" shouts 
every one, galloping over the knoll and down a gradual 
slope. The fox is in one field, the hounds in the next, and 
the riders that are left in the third. "Hie! Hie! Hie!" 

Can Renard make his point, which seems to be a covert 
several fields farther on ? On, hounds ! That covert con- 
tains an open earth. Our horses can no longer answer to 



3 3^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

whip or spur. Still we are gaining. Quickstep is not a 
rod behind Renard's brush. ^^ Hie ! Hie! Hie!'' shouts 
every rider, in one mighty effort and final rally to hounds 
and horse. " Whoop ! whoop ! " as the prowling chicken- 
thief rolls over in the opening. 

The huntsman jumps off his horse, takes the fox from 
the hounds, and pockets the masks, pads, and brush. Then, 
with a tooting of his horn, he calls the stray hounds and 
riders in, and with " He was a jolly good fellow ! " Renard's 
carcass is thrown high in the air, to light in the centre of 
the snapping, snarling pack. " Break him, my beauties, 
break him ! " 

Meantime riders have dismounted. Some have thrown 
themselves full length on the grass. Like their horses, 
they are done to a turn. For you and me, Novice, let us 
ease our saddle-girths and lead our mounts to a knoll 
where they can get the refreshing air, while we tell them 
they are the best in the stable, or at least give them some 
worthy compliment on their endurance. 

A lady rider. Miss Frances, whom we met at the 
meet, is presented with the brush. Mr. Arthur, among 
others, rides up to congratulate her, and the two ride off 
together. The mask goes to a visiting gentleman from 
Boston. Novice receives a pad. His friends surround 
him and "blood " his face with it in due and ancient form. 

And now we trot toward home in the wake of the 
hounds, tired, but as happy as we are tired — all except the 
jealous riders who have been cut out by Blackhorse. 
The steeplechaser lately imported on the quiet from Canada 
has done the job. Blackhorse, to be sure, is very fond of 







JO 

£ 

c 

(U 

CQ 



The Game Itself 337 

himself, but the four or five others whom he left behind 
are wretched. So much to heart has one of them taken 
his defeat that he declares ** if he carn't buy something to 
beat Blackhorse he will never come hunting again." On 
the way home there is little to talk about ; only the horse- 
dealer seems able to keep his tongue going. Home at 
last, our horse has a pail of warm oatmeal gruel, which we 
give him with our own hands. We see him done up for 
the night to our liking before we hasten in to dress for the 
dinner the Master is giving at the club in honour of the 
huntsman, whose birthday it is, and some other visiting 
knights of the pigskin. We must not miss it, for it is sure 
to hold something good in store. 



XXX 

THE HUNT DINNER 



" Whatever our fate, may every one say 
There is nothing like hunting on a good scenting day." 

TO FOX-HUNTING 




XXX 
THE HUNT DINNER 

THE huntsman's TOAST " TO FOX-HUNTING IN GENERAL" 

THE DOCTOR TELLS A STORY 

UST a few congenial spirits," says our 
Master, on the way home from covert ; 
" no formality." 

Hunting men at dinner, like hounds when 
the pace is fastest, give little or no tongue. But by the 
time cigars and cigarettes are passed they become such a 
set of babblers as would " draft " the lot of them without 
more ado. Over and over again they discuss the run of 
the day, straight, crossways, and then "catacorner," as the 
farmers say they cultivate their corn. Like the corn, that 
grows taller and broader for each cultivation, so grow the 
fences higher and the brook wider at least a foot at every 
telling. The brook is no longer a creek, but a canal, to 
those who have tasted it, a river to those who forded it. 
Each hunter's vices have become trivial faults, his faults 
mere eccentricities which only amuse and delight. His 
mistakes we gladly take upon ourselves, where, in all prob- 
ability, they belong. So the babblers babble on till finally 
there is a stir at the Master's end of the table. 

341 



342 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

" Gentlemen ! " says the Master, rising, " gentlemen, 
this is our huntsman's birthday. I suppose he has for- 
gotten the fact entirely. I have asked you to come this 
evening to remind him of it." 

Then, after some complimentary remarks on our hunts- 
man's skill, his health is drunk to the tune of " He 's a 
jolly good fellow ! " 



Here 's to our huntsman, so cheery and keen ! 
To all of his breed, whether scarlet or green ! 
To the hounds ! And may never their progeny fail 
To go like their sires of to-day in the vale. 



Our huntsman, looking as shy as a new-entry puppy, 
stands up, and, after a few words of thanks to the Master 
and of general compliment to the hunt, he proposes the 
following toast: 

TO FOX-HUNTING IN GENERAL 

May we find a good horse who is fond of the play ; 

May our foxes be straight-necked and show hounds the way ; 

May every one of us hear the glad gone away 

As he stands near the covert on the best hunting day! 

May the fences never stop us, nor the brooks cause dismay ; 

May our hounds never weary or their noses delay; 

May hound music never cease through eternity to roll, 

Cheering on every heart that is tuned to its toll. 

Whatever our fate, may every one say 

There is nothing like hunting on a good scenting day! 



The Hunt Dinner 34.3 

At the end of this poem the Master rises again. "Gen- 
tlemen," he says, " we have with us to-night our old friend 
the Doctor, who takes his hunting in a carriage, but, for all 
that, usually sees as much of the game or more than the 
riders themselves. 

To the poor he advice gives away ; 
For the rich he prescribes and takes pay. 
But to each one he 's said, 
' You will surely be dead 
If you don't go a-hunting to-day ! ' 

We saw him out to-day with a new entry whom he was 
introducing to hounds." 

The Doctor is a very popular attache of our hunt, as the 
reader may have surmised who followed him through the 
chapter on " Driving to Hounds." It is therefore amid a 
great tumult of applause and clinking of glasses that he 
stands up to reply. His full rounded form and face are so 
full o£ good humour that one of his friends declares the 
sight of him does his patients more good than all the pills 
and herbs of his medicinal stores. 

He pauses a moment for the applause to subside, then 
drops his head to survey the company over the top of his 
eye-glasses, while the crow's-feet begin to pucker at the 
corners of his eyes and his mouth begins to draw. His 
friends break out again in anticipated relish of what they 
feel sure is to come. After a few complimentary remarks 
befitting the celebration, and a sly allusion to Mrs. So-and- 
So's drive to the Maple Grove covert, — the occasion of 
another wild demonstration from the members and blushes 



344 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

of the deepest dye on the face of the huntsman, — the 
Doctor begins an account of what happened that day to 
the person whom the Master was pleased to call his " new 
entry": 

" My friend, Mr. Bankclerk, whom most of you met or 
ran against to-day, was, as the Master has said, out to-day for 
the first time to hounds. I had prescribed hunting for him, 
as I do in most cases [" Hear, hear ! "], especially for 
insomnia and nervous prostration. It has been rather hard 
medicine for young Bankclerk, but if he perseveres it will 
cure him ; that is, providing, of course, it does not kill him. 

" It was only yesterday morning that we were discussing 
the matter in my office when our liveryman dropped in to 
collect his bill. Without mentioning names, I may say, to 
distinguish him from the other liverymen of our town, 
that he occasionally rides to hounds. I have never seen 
him ofl^ a highway or out of a lane, myself, if there was a 
fence between it and him. He generally has a horse or 
two to sell or trade — he is never at all particular which, 
though of the two he prefers a trade; and to swop horses 
with a gypsy is his special delight. You all know whom I 
mean. He wears a waistcoat of a horse-blanket pattern, a 
leather watch-guard, a horse's head for a scarf-pin, and cufF- 
buttons to match. He wears boots and riding-breeches 
seven days in the week, and is without exception the horsiest 
man in the county. Indeed, he looks like a horse and 
smells like a horse-stable. 

"*Well, Doctor,' began our liveryman, striking his 
favourite attitude — his legs spread, his back to the wall, 
and his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, the better to 



The Hunt Dinner 345 

display the same, * you say you were not out last Thursday. 
You missed a sight. I was on Rory O'More ; and what a 
clipper he is, to be sure ! Not a better hunter ever looked 
through a bridle. Well, sir, Rory and I left the whole 
field as if they were standing. The first I knew, I was 
alone with the hounds. The huntsman was shouting at 
me from several fields behind ; but I had no time to bother 
with him or the Master or the rest of them chappies trail- 
ing on after. I was doing my darnedest to ease up a bit, 
like any other good Christian, but, my sakes ! don't you 
make a mistake; when hounds run, Rory O'More is going 
with them. A fence stood up in front of us. Gee whiz ! 
but it was a regular church. Yet Rory would have it, and, 
as I live, he cleared it without a tick ; six foot three and 
three quarter inches, by actual measure. I see we were in 
for a real buster, and, oh. Lord ! another fence with a drop 
of ten feet on the landing-side. I roasted Rory one with 
my crop, and darn my eyes if he did n't take it in his 
stride. Well, that fence stopped the field, and when I had 
gone on and killed our fox, and done the obsequies in the best 
of style, who should come riding up but the Master and 
huntsman. The way they stared at me, you would have 
thought they had seen a ghost. What a wonder that Rory 
O'More is ! I say, Doctor, you don't know of any one that 
wants to buy the best hunter in the United States cheap as 
bullock beef, do you ? ' 

"Well," continued the Doctor, " I saw there was going 
to be no end of it, and as our liveryman had forgotten to 
say what he came after, I said I must go. Imagine my 
surprise when I met Bankclerk, that evening, to learn that 



34^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

he had bought Rory O'More and was going to come out 
to-day for the first time. ' Well,' said I to my wife this 
morning, * my patients must die or get well as best they 
can to-day without me. I 'm going to see the fun.' So 
I hung the slate on the door and started. Bankclerk sent 
his horse on by a groom, and rode over with me. * Was n't 
it a fortunate occurrence that I happened to secure Rory 
O'More?' said he. ' I am going to rename him Romeo, 
after one of Shakespeare's characters ; or would you call him 
something else ? I lay awake half the night thinking up a 
name.' * Perhaps one will suggest itself somehow before 
the day is over,' I replied; and so it did. *Is he sound?' 
I asked. 

"* Sound ! Why, the dealer said he had n't a pimple on 
him.' 

"* And his wind ?' 

"* Well, I did say I thought he breathed rather hard, but 
the dealer seemed very honest about it ; he said that 
showed the strength of his lungs.' 

"* What did he say about his fencing ?' 

** * Well, you heard yourself what he said about how he 
could jump. "Jump! He will jump anything," said he, 
"that I would ever ask him to." Of course I don't expect,' 
added Bankclerk, *that I shall take any such jumps as the 
dealer did until I am a little more accustomed to riding. 
However, you can understand I did n't want a green horse 
to begin with, and I hope to learn some things from Rory. 
The dealer said I surely would, as the horse knew it all.' 

"* How did the dealer say he happened to be able to sell 
such a remarkable horse so cheap ? ' I inquired. 



The Hunt Dinner 347 

"*He was owned by a gentleman who was going 
abroad. Sold for no fault of his own.' This I knew to be 
quite true, as the liveryman had taken the horse in a 
trade from a gypsy. * Gentleman going abroad' — that point 
at least was not to be disputed. 

" * Sold for no fault of his own.' 

"* Whose own ?' I asked. * The horse's or the former 
owner's ? ' But this seemed to make my good friend huffy, 
and I desisted. 

"Well, I had to laugh to see Bankclerk admiring himself 
in the shop-windows as you rode through town to covert. 

" *Why don't you carry a looking-glass in front of you?' 
shouted a boot-black at him as he passed. * It would save 
the trouble of turning your head.' 

" Before we reached the covert, Bankclerk was quilting 
away at his nag to make him keep up. 

" * Not much on the trot,' I suggested, * is he .? Give 
him the spurs.' This Bankclerk did, but Rory simply 
switched his tail and plodded on. 

" * Come up, my beauty,' said Bankclerk, trying to get 
his old stager into a canter ; for I could see my friend's 
back teeth were being loosened from the jolting of the old 
fellow's trot. 

" * Come up, my beauty ! Come along, my pet ! ' he cried, 
pushing on the lines and then pulling back as a signal for 
Rory to go ahead. And then, losing patience, he drove both 
spurs home with *Get out of this, you lumbering idiot i' 
Thus addressed, Rory O'More broke into a bone-setting 
canter. The ring of his feet on the stone pavement could 
be heard for a mile. 



34^ Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

"Arriving at covert, I lost sight of my friend ; but seeing 
the way hounds were running, I drove on. The next thing 
I saw of him he was about to jump a fence not over three 
feet high. He was leading the jBeld, to be sure. Rory 
O'More got both fore feet over, and there he stuck. Forty 
riders behind were waiting their turn to go through the 
only gap. 

" * Have you a lease of the place for a term of years, or 
only for the day?' asked some one. 

" * Build a fire under him,' cried another. 

" * Pour water in his ears,' etc., until finally Rory 
O'More, having secured his second wind while resting on 
the fence, answered to my friend's quilting and went away 
with surprising speed. 

" Later in the afternoon, whom should I see but Bankclerk 
come walking along toward the road. I waited for him. 
He was the picture of woe. His hat was knocked in so 
he looked like a Bowery tough ; his new hunting-breeches 
were green as grass could make them on one knee, and 
torn to shreds on the other ; his hunting-coat was a mix- 
ture of grass- and fallow-stains; and altogether he was the 
most forlorn-looking object I ever beheld. 

" * Where is your horse ? What has become of Romeo ? ' 
I inquired. 

" ' Gone to the devil, I hope,' said Bankclerk. 

" ' And your hunting-crop ? ' I asked. 

" My friend, now that he was reminded of it, just missed 
it. He looked first at one hand, then at the other ; then 
he felt on the outside of his pockets. 

" * Your hunting-crop,' I said. * Have you lost it .? ' 



The Hunt Dinner 349 

" * The Lord only knows,' was the melancholy answer. 

" * Are n't you going to look for your horse?' I asked 
next, but still with no answer. 

" Ignoring the apparent absence of my patient's mind, I 
hastened to inquire if he had had an enjoyable day's sport. 
* You certainly bear evidence,' said I, ' of having had a 
glorious day.' 

" * I never met such a beastly lot of blackguards in all 
my life.' 

" ' Come, get into my waggon and tell me all about it,' I 
said soothingly. 

" * Well, to begin with,' said my friend, * the Master 
swore at me awfully. I was n't doing anything, either. 
He rode up to me and said, " Why don't you hold hard 
when I ask you ? " "Well, now, really," said I, " were you 
talking to me ? My name is Bankclerk." And he 
wheeled his horse about and rode away saying he had no 
time to make me a set of brains. I thought when I heard 
him yelling " Hold hard, there, Greyhorse," what a funny 
name that was for a man. It seemed to make every one 
laugh that heard it. The next ruffian to ride up to me 
with another bucket of abuse was the huntsman. "What 

in are you hollering at ? " said he. " At the fox," 

said I ; "just saw him run back in the woods, there. I 
thought you would be glad to know of it, and I hollered." 
With that he ripped out a torrent of abuse. " What are 
you doing here, anyway ? " he asked. 

" ' " My name is Bankclerk," said I. " Dr. N 

advised me to go hunting for my health." " He should 
have given you rough-on-rats," said the huntsman. " Bank- 



350 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

clerk, did you say your name was ? " " Yes, sir, from 
Rochester," said I. " May I give you my card ? " " Don't 
trouble yourself," said he. " You take my advice, young 
man : go home and have the cashier lock you in a safe and 
give him a dollar to lose the key." Nice way to treat a 
stranger, was n't it? Well, we came to a check, as you 
call it,' continued my friend, getting more and more indig- 
nant at the recollection of the treatment he had received, 
'when I noticed a fellow standing apart from the rest of 
the company, looking about as lonesome as I was. So I 
rode up behind him, and by way of being civil I was about 
to ask him if it was customary for certain members of the 
hunt to tie red ribbons in their horses' tails, when his brute 
of a horse let fly with both hind legs and caught me on the 
knee. Look how he tore my breeches. Then the rider, 
too, turned on me and began to swear. " Can't you see 
where you are going ? " he cried.' 

" I explained to my friend that the red ribbon in a 
horse's tail was a sign he was a kicker. 

" * Well,' said Bankclerk, * why did n't he say so ? Look 
here. Doctor,' he went on, *you advised me to go hunting 
for my health. I have been within an ace of being killed 
at least half a dozen times in the last two hours. Your 
treatment is too heroic for me.' 

" ' Well, what next ? ' I inquired, for I wanted to know 
how it happened he had lost his horse. 

" * Let me see. Oh, yes ; the next thing that happened, 
I got hung up on the fence, as you saw, and heard insulting 
remarks from the field. Then a fellow I was following — 
my horse goes better, I find, if he has a lead — well, the 



The Hunt Dinner 351 

horse ahead of me refused, and of course I bumped into 
him, and the rider fell off. When he got up he also began 
to abuse me like a pirate. ** What do you mean by riding 
in my pocket ? " he roared. " How did I know your old 
bloke of a horse was going to refuse ? " said I. 

" * Then I thought I would keep away from every one 
as a sure guarantee of not getting into any more rows, for 
you may be sure I had experienced quite enough of it by 
this time ; so I went through a gate, and was crossing a 
field all by myself when I heard some galoot shouting, 
" Ware wheat, ware wheat ! " and I saw an old hayseed of a 
farmer running after me. This was a little too much. I 

pulled up. " Now see here," said I. " What the do 

you mean by shouting at me like this ? What the are 

you hollering at, you fool ? Go lock yourself in the barn 
and hire some one to lose the key," said I, just to give this 
impudent fellow the same treatment every one had been 
giving me. I had been insulted by everybody, from Master 
to stable-boys, and my monkey was up, I can assure you. 
" Ware wheat ! " shouted the hayseed. " Wear it yourself," 
I replied. 

" * " Get off the wheat ! " he shouted. This jarred me, 
for I was in a ploughed field and not on the wheat at all. 
** I '11 not go until I get ready," said I. Then the old cuss 
came for me with a pitchfork. I turned my horse to go 
out of the field, with the farmer after me, clubbing and 
prodding my horse with the pitchfork. The going was 
deep, and my old nag had to take it at every jump. In 
clearing the fence into the woods he jumped so high 
that I was caught by a limb and knocked off. " Good 



3 52 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 

enough for you ! " said the farmer. " If you ever step foot 
on my land again I '11 prosecute you." I must have left my 
crop by his fence.' 

" ' Go and look for it.' 

" * Not much ! And where the deuce that old plug of a 
horse has gone to I don't know, and, what 's more, I don't 
care. I paid twenty-five dollars down on the brute. I '11 
forget that, and telegraph the liveryman his horse is some- 
where in the woods and at his risk.' 

** We drove along a little farther," continued the Doc- 
tor, " to look for him. * Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art 
thou, Romeo ? ' Presently we came upon some of the riders. 
A boy was leading Romeo about, waiting for some one to 
claim him. I have heard since I came here to-night that 
the horse, although a clumsy old brute, is very clever at his 
fences, and that my friend could not make him go on 
because he was riding him on the curb instead of the 
snaffle. But he will make a sportsman yet," said the Doc- 
tor, " and I want to ask you all, gentlemen, as a special 
favour, to help put the young man right. You never can 
tell by the looks of a toad how far he can jump." 



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